Broken
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: Jenny Shepard is back to a place she thought she'd never go again, and she needs the help of a certain agent to pick up her pieces for her. But is she too broken this time to be fixed? Mentions of self-harm, rape, abuse, suicide. Fallen Dreams Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I know, I know, another story? Just bear with me; this one wanted to be posted. To begin with, this story is not going to be an easy story to read, or write. It involves rape, cutting, abuse, depression, and suicide. If any of these offend you, please don't read. The issues in this story have not affected me personally, but are very personal to me. My best friend has been dealing with some of these issues for a long time, and I know how tough it is on her. It still is affecting her, and it isn't easy. I love her, though, and will support her forever. She is the inspiration behind this, and my beta for the harder aspects of this.  
It's an AU in the sense that Jenny never experienced what I'm having her experience (that we know of). It takes place mid-season five- it's an AU version of 'Requiem', basically. You'll understand as you read. I do hope you leave me a review, telling me what you thought!  
Also, the title is from the song 'Broken' by Seether, featuring Amy Lee, which partially inspired this, and which I strongly recommend you listen to.  
For Evelyn, who is the best friend a girl could ask for.  
Disclaimer: I own only the plot, the characters are owned by Don Bellisario.

* * *

The bullpen was relatively quite for three in the afternoon.

Paperwork had been completed half an hour before, there were no active cases, and Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was a happy man. He was currently stretched out in his chair, feet up on his desk as he relaxed, his eyes closed as he attempted to take a brief nap. He was just dozing off when his head shot forward, being on the receiving end of a famous Gibbs-slap.

"DiNozzo, what do you think you're doin'?" Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs asked, coffee cup in hand as he glared at his senior field agent.

"Uhh…just resting my eyes boss. It was only for a second." Tony said, sitting up straight and attempting to pry his eyes open, sleep still tugging at the corners. Jethro raised an eyebrow, not believing it. "Won't happen again boss."

"I should hope not, Agent DiNozzo." the crystalline voice of Director Jennifer Shepard said as it floated into the bullpen as she walked in to stand next to Jethro. In her crisp tan slacks and printed blouse underneath a red sweater and her classic heels, she was striking, her red hair pulled half-back in a clip. She held a coffee cup identical to Jethro's in her hand, and Tony suspected they'd gotten it together. "I'm not paying you to sleep."

"Course you aren't ma'am." Tony said, a tad uneasy. What was the Director doing in the bullpen anyway?

"Glad to hear it, Agent DiNozzo." Jenny said, smiling at him. She went to sit on the edge of Jethro's desk, looking down at him. Tony watched them, confused. What was going on with the boss and the boss lady?

He glanced across the bullpen at his partner, Officer Ziva David. He raised an eyebrow, jerking his head in the pair's direction. She mimicked his actions, shaking her head slightly. So it was a mystery to her as well.

Everyone was well aware that the infamous Hollis Mann had left the scene. It had only been a matter of time before she'd gone; everyone knew that she and Jethro weren't going to last. After the case with Jethro's third ex-wife, things had fallen apart- this was common knowledge, though Jethro didn't know it.

But was something brewing with the Director? Tony was curious, but for once, felt that this was something that he didn't need to be involved in. If the boss and the lady boss decided that they were going to get into a relationship, he wasn't going to mess it up by placing bets on it. They both deserved happiness; things hadn't exactly been easy the past few weeks.

Jenny sipped her coffee, well aware of the eyes on her. Jethro raised an eyebrow at her, and she returned the movement, shrugging her shoulders.

She knew Tony would be gossiping about this come tomorrow morning. It would be all over the building by lunch tomorrow. But, he'd be wrong.

There was nothing going on between herself and Jethro, as much as she wanted there to be.

She had to admit though, things had been better recently, since Hollis Mann had left, but they still had a long way to go. And she could be patient. After all she'd waited almost nine years for even just a chance.

Everyone looked up when the elevator dinged, and a young woman with blonde hair stepped off, looking around. Curious as to why she was there, Jenny stood, getting off of Jethro's desk. The girl walked over to them, and Jenny noticed just the faintest bump in her lower torso. Why was a pregnant young woman walking timidly into the bullpen?

"I'm…I'm looking for Special Agent Gibbs?" the pretty young woman asked, her voice tiny and quiet as her teeth sunk nervously into her bottom lip. She tucked a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear, her hazel eyes darting around the group, settling on each person for a moment before moving her gaze.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs." Jethro said, standing up. He was curious and confused as to why this young woman was looking for him. He didn't recognize her, and was unsure as to why she would be looking for him, and at work, nonetheless.

"I'm Maddie. Maddie Tyler." the woman replied, looking up to meet his gaze. "Do you remember me at all?"

Jethro looked over the girl once more, waiting for a flicker of recollection to appear. Nothing came.

"No, sorry, I don't." he said apologetically, dipping his head slightly.

"Well, it has been a while." Maddie said, the tiniest flicker of a smile crossing her face. "I used to come over to your house. I was…I was Kelly's best friend. At least, that's how I remember myself, as Kelly's best friend. I like to think she thought so too."

"You lived on base?" Jethro asked, memories starting to flood his mind.

"Marine brat." she confirmed quietly, nodding slightly. "My dad was an officer."

"I remember." Jethro said softly, smiling minutely. "Good man."

Jenny watched the exchange, smiling ever-so-slightly. So this young woman had known Jethro's daughter. She knew that this had to be bittersweet for him, and she looked at him, took in the distant look in his brilliant blue eyes. He was obviously lost in memories.

"He retired. Moved back to Oakland. Died a couple years ago." Maddie said, a note of sadness touching her voice. Jenny knew that feeling, all too well. "But that's not why I'm here."

"Would you like to talk in a conference room, Miss Tyler?" Jenny interrupted, bringing the girl's attention over to her. She didn't think the young woman would want to tell Jethro whatever she needed to in front of the entire team. "You'll have more privacy there than here in the middle of the bullpen."

"Okay thank you…" Maddie said, biting her lip when she realized she didn't know Jenny's name.

"Director Shepard." Jenny answered, smiling kindly. Maddie nodded, still not letting herself smile fully. "Right this way. Agent Gibbs?"

Jethro nodded, standing and following Jenny and Maddie up the stairs to an empty conference room. He was still confused as to why Maddie was there, but he figured he'd find out soon enough.

Jenny held the door open for Maddie and Jethro, nodding to him slightly. She smiled at Maddie, walking towards the door after they'd been seated.

"I'll leave you two alone then."

"Could you stay?" Jenny's eyes widened slightly at the hesitant question. That tone was so familiar to her. Those words brought her back to another time, another girl, and another plea.

"Of course I can." Jenny said softly, memories still running through her brain, of a time when she'd told someone no, and regretted it more than she'd ever thought possible. She closed the door behind her quietly and sat at the end, Maddie on her right side and Jethro on her left.

Maddie took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly, collecting her thoughts before speaking, her voice quiet and timid-sounding.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't supposed to happen, not this way." she started, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "He seemed nice enough, to begin with. He was in a few of my classes at Georgetown. We went out a few times, but I wasn't ready to be in a relationship, not yet. He didn't want to hear it. After about our third date, I told him that I didn't think we should go out anymore, but instead of being understanding like I thought he would, he…he…"

Jenny winced the tiniest bit when she heard Maddie stall, knowing what she wasn't saying already. It explained everything, and Jenny's heart went out to her. This wasn't a social visit. She was a victim.

"Were you raped, Maddie?" Jenny asked gently, not wanting the girl to go into the whole story just yet. The young woman lifted her tear-filled hazel eyes to meet Jenny's tender green ones, and nodded, stifling a tiny sob.

"Did you go to the police?" Jethro asked, his voice the tiniest bit rough as he tried and failed to hide the emotion he was feeling.

"I went the next night, after he'd finally left. They said they couldn't do anything, because there wasn't any evidence. Apparently, I'd waited too long." Maddie said, her voice breaking on the last word. "I…I came here because I do have evidence, now. And because he's a Marine."

"What kind of evidence, Maddie?" Jenny asked, fearing the worst.

"About…about two months ago, I missed my period. I didn't believe it, not at first. I thought it was impossible. But, it happened." Maddie said, shrinking even more into the chair.

"Maddie, are you saying that you're pregnant, and it's your rapist's?" Jenny asked, her heart stopping in her chest at the fear in the young woman's eyes. Maddie nodded quickly, tears starting to fall.

"I…I wanted to end it but…I'm Catholic. I couldn't. It isn't the baby's fault. But…I can't keep it. I just…I couldn't do it." Maddie said, more tears slipping down her cheeks. "I don't know how I can do this but…I don't have any other choice."

Jenny closed her eyes. These words were so familiar. Her heart ached in her chest, pain flooding her veins at the memories.

"What's the Marine's name?" Jethro asked, clearing his throat roughly beforehand.

"Rudi Haas." Maddie whispered, crossing her arms over her chest, as if she were holding herself together. "He's going to school to be a vet, like I was. He joined the Marines right out of high school, but after his first tour he came back and went to school. He lives on campus."

Jethro raised his eyes to Jenny's, shocked by the moisture the clung to the heavy lashes surrounding the vivid shade of green. Why was Jenny looking close to crying?

Jenny discretely wiped at her eyes, the moisture that hung from her lashes coming off on her sleeve. Jethro was looking at her in concern, and Maddie was catching her breath, wiping her own tears away with the tissues Jenny had pushed towards her earlier. Taking a deep breath, she continued on.

"You'll need to write a formal report, and retell the night of your rape. I know it'll be hard, but you'll have to give details. I'd also like our medical examiner, Dr. Mallard, to look you over. Just to check that everything is alright." Jenny said, explaining everything to Maddie. When Jenny had said she wanted Maddie to be examined, the girl's eyes widened, fear entering the hazel irises.

"No, no it's fine I don't need to be examined. I'm fine." she said, her words rushed and slightly jumbled. Jenny looked at her in concern, confused.

That's when Jethro noticed the cuts on her forearms for the first time, and his eyebrows crinkled in concern. Maddie seemed to feel his eyes, because she tugged self-consciously on her rolled-up sleeves, the fabric sliding down to cover the marks.

"Maddie…what were those from?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle with concern. The girl raised her eyes to meet his, their hazel color obscured with tears.

"Na…nothing." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Maddie…Maddie are you hurting yourself?" Jenny asked softly, her heart in her throat as she awaited the girl's next words. She desperately hoped to hear the word 'no'; she knew the pain behind those beautiful hazel eyes, and she didn't want this girl to be feeling what she had. Watching the young woman dip her head, her blonde hair falling forward to cover her face, was answer enough for her, though.

"I didn't want to…I know I shouldn't. But…but it was…it was the only way I could _feel_ something." Maddie said, her voice a broken whisper. Jenny closed her eyes briefly, memories flooding her. Those words were achingly familiar to her; her heart thudded in her chest; more and more memories she had spent years repressing flooding through her, whispered words and shouted accusations filling her ears.

"Feel?" Jethro questioned, his eyebrows contracting in confusion. "How can you not feel how much that must-"

"That's enough, Jethro." Jenny snapped, effectively cutting him off. Jethro looked up, slightly shocked. Jenny's eyes were hard flints of emerald, her jaw clenched tight. Jethro raised an eyebrow, but Jenny's eyes didn't soften. Instead, he looked at Maddie.

Jethro looked at the broken, hurting young woman in front of him, and his heart broke. This woman had been his Kelly's best friend. She'd been a little girl with blonde hair and crooked teeth. The two had played together, giggled together, gotten in trouble together. And now, she could never have that innocence ever again. It had been taken from her.

He glanced back over at Jenny, and stopped short once again when he caught sight of the look in her eyes. It was a mirror of Maddie's; pain and despair echoed in the green depths, although not quite as heavy. Confusion swirled through him, but he didn't let it show. It was a conversation for another time.

"Maddie, have you seen a doctor at all?" Jenny asked, tilting her head in concern at the girl. Maddie lifted her head, meeting Jenny's gaze.

"A few times. To…to confirm I was pregnant, and to get sleeping pills." she answered, her voice still soft. "I have trouble sleeping at night, so I got a prescription."

Jenny nodded in sympathy, her heart dropping even more into her stomach. Jethro's words had angered her, and she'd snapped at him. She'd seen the surprise in his gaze, but his ignorance, no matter if it wasn't his fault, had just made the anger rear its head. She regretted her harsh tone now, for more than one reason. Now, he'd start asking questions.

Questions she didn't know if she was quite ready to answer.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews; I know this story is darker and more difficult to read. This chapter doesn't get any better, unfortunately, and is a little graphic. Just to warn you.

Disclaimer: I own only the plot, not the characters.

* * *

Jenny gazed at Maddie, watching the young woman wipe away the last of her tears, sniffling quietly.

"Maddie, I would still like Dr. Mallard to examine you." she said gently, smiling kindly at the young woman. Maddie's eyes widened as she bit her lip, fear still present in her features. After a few long moments of silence, she nodded slightly.

"Do you…do you think…that…that you could, um, come with me?" Maddie asked hesitantly, obviously afraid that Jenny would refuse. Jenny's heart throbbed at the girl's tone, yet another memory crashing over her.

"Of course I can. Would it be alright if we went now?" Jenny asked, looking at Maddie. The young woman nodded, standing up and wrapping her arms around herself. To the outside observer, it would look like she was just cold. But to Jenny, she knew it was the only way that Maddie could keep herself together. She was holding herself because if she didn't, she'd fall apart, ripping at the seams.

Jethro watched the two stand, following a little ways behind. He was confused, to say the least, by how Jenny was acting. But he knew that that was a conversation for another time, when they were alone.

If she would even look at him, that is.

"I'll walk you to the elevator, and then I'll have to go back to the squad room. I'll start the case file." Jethro said, nodding to the two women. Maddie returned his nod with a ghost of a smile, but Jenny merely nodded curtly, completely avoiding his gaze.

"Thank you, Mr. Gibbs." Maddie said, her voice whisper-soft as she started towards the door, following Jenny's footsteps.

"You can call me Jethro, Maddie." he said, offering her a small smile. She returned it shyly, casting her gaze downward before starting to play with the cuff of her sweater.

"Thank you…Jethro." she said, trying it out. Sadness tinged his smile; if Kelly had been alive, she'd have been freaking out. She'd always talked about her and Maddie being old enough to call each other's parents by their first names.

Kelly would never be old enough to call Maddie's parents by their first names.

Shaking the thoughts off, he nodded to the two of them as they stepped into the elevator. He chanced a glance at Jenny, whose face had slipped out from underneath the hard mask she'd adopted.

Pain and a trace of remembrance shaded her face, her pretty green eyes filled with a hurt he'd never seen before, even with the business with her father. The barest hint of uncertainty encircled her irises, as though she didn't know if she was doing the right thing. Jen never doubted herself, even in the direst situations.

So why was she doubting herself now, over this particular young woman?

* * *

Jenny had Maddie stay in the elevator until she'd checked to be sure that Autopsy was clear, seeing as how this woman did not need anymore scars, visible or not. Then, she had the young woman wait by the doors while she spoke with Ducky.

"Director, what can I do for you?" Ducky asked, smiling at her before noticing Maddie. "And who is this?"

"This is Maddie Tyler, Ducky. She came in today because she needs a case worked. She was raped a few months ago by a Marine, and she's now pregnant." Jenny said, the pain in her voice echoed in Ducky's eyes. "She was Kelly's best friend."

"Oh…oh my. How is…how is Jethro taking it?" Ducky asked in a hushed voice, glancing covertly at the young woman standing hesitantly by the door.

"He hasn't said much, but I can't imagine well." Jenny said, shaking her head slightly. "She's also been harming herself; there are cuts on her forearms, and I'd like you to examine her, just to be safe. She's taking sleeping pills, and I think she's having a hard time eating; she looks thin."

"Of course, anything to help." Ducky replied, nodding. "Just know that I cannot give nearly the kind of examination a hospital can give. I have no way of examining her pregnancy, that isn't my field."

"I know you can only do a fraction, but as long as you can give me a basis of her health that's fine. And…if you could, do you think you could do a psychological profile on her?" Jenny asked, keeping her voice quiet, so Maddie wouldn't hear. "I'd just like to know how she's dealing with everything on a psychological level. What she went through isn't something you just…get over, in a few months."

"I don't know how much she'll talk my dear, but I can try." Ducky said, shooting the young woman by the door a small smile. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip as she blushed, turning her gaze down shyly.

"Maddie, I'd like you to meet our Medical Examiner, Dr. Mallard." Jenny said, guiding the young woman over to Ducky.

"Please, call me Ducky. Everyone does." the elderly ME said, giving Maddie a genuine smile.

"Hi." Maddie said, voice soft as she raised her eyes to meet Ducky's gaze.

"Would you like me to stay, Maddie? Or would you rather I leave?" Jenny asked softly, still unsure what she wanted the other woman's answer to be.

"Um, could you, uh, stay please?" Maddie asked, stumbling over her words as she glanced at Jenny, eyes suddenly filled with fear.

"Of course Maddie, whatever you need." Jenny said, touching the girl's arm gently. Maddie still flinched unintentionally, eyes closing.

"Sorry I just…I can't help it." Maddie said, tears in her voice as she wiped at her eyes, moping up the tears with her sweater.

"It's okay…I understand." Jenny said, bowing her head slightly, collecting herself.

How the hell was she going to get through this examine in one piece, without completely falling apart?

* * *

Dr. Donald Mallard had seen much in his lifetime.

He had seen horrific crimes, he had seen grisly battlefields, and he had seen his mother's memory reduced to next to nothing.

But this ranked in his top ten.

Maddie Tyler was so fractured, so distraught. He'd never seen someone so shattered.

So broken.

He knew he had to do the basics; he had to take her blood pressure, her heart rate, and her temperature. But throughout the exam, he'd also have to get the young woman to talk, and tell him about herself. He always talked to the bodies he worked on, but this was different.

Because this time, he intended to get verbal answers to his questions.

"So Madeline…do you mind, if I call you Madeline? Or do you prefer Maddie?" he asked, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the young woman's upper arm.

"I…I don't mind." Maddie answered, her voice faint. "It…reminds me of my dad. He refused to call me Maddie."

"My dad did the same thing when I was a teenager." Jenny commented, a small smile on her face. "He refused to call me anything but Jennifer until after I'd graduated. Then he seemed to accept that I hated it, and he started calling me Jenny."

"I call you Jennifer." Ducky remarked, raising an eyebrow at Jenny.

"I don't mind when you call me Jennifer…it makes me feel like my grandfather is calling my name. From anyone else…it just sounds like I'm being scolded." Jenny said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Is that why you yelled at Jethro when he called you Jennifer in Paris?" Ducky asked, a teasing glint filling his eyes as he gazed at her.

"I told him not to call me by my full name. He had it coming." Jenny said, shrugging her shoulders. Ducky laughed softly, sighing as he nodded. He glanced down at Maddie, who was looking at Jenny with the closest thing to a smile she could muster. Ducky's heart broke for the young woman.

"Madeline, I heard you were friends with Kelly, Jethro's daughter." Ducky asked, taking the blood pressure cuff off after jotting the numbers down.

"I lived next door to them. Kelly and I were best friends." Maddie said, eyes filling with memories. "I was devastated when she was killed. I don't think I stopped crying."

"I'm sure she was a wonderful girl." Jenny murmured, eyes growing distant as she gazed at Maddie. She'd only ever seen pictures of Kelly; only ever seen how she had Jethro's eyes and pretty auburn curls.

She desperately wished she could have met this little girl. This little girl who so clearly had held Jethro's heart in her fingers.

"She was my best friend. She made me laugh, she held me when my mom was diagnosed with leukemia when we were seven, she helped me with math. We talked about horses; we talked about being old enough to wear make-up and stay out late and to be able to drive. We slept over at each others houses, we made chocolate chip cookies together, we played with the boys on the base. We did everything together." Maddie said, tears filling her eyes as she spoke, her voice still quiet. "I didn't know what to do after she was killed. I was completely lost without my best friend."

Jenny's heart broke, and she looked away, taking a deep breath. She knew what that was like- she knew _exactly_ what that was like. The pain of losing a best friend was bad enough. But having one ripped away brutally was even worse.

"Losing a best friend is never easy." she said softly, gripping her right wrist with her left hand tightly, keeping her brain focused on that instead of the memories flooding her mind's eye.

Ducky watched Jenny carefully, wrinkling his forehead in concern at the concealed pain in her voice. Someone that was not trained to pick up on the nuances in voices would never have noticed it, but he had.

And he was wondering if she needed a psychological profile as well.

Checking his watch, he took note of Maddie's heart rate and then gave her the thermometer to put in her mouth. He stole another glance at Jenny, who was still gripping her wrist tightly, so tightly that her knuckles were white, as she looked anywhere but Maddie. He frowned, worry filling him again. Her actions were very unlike her.

He didn't know what to make of them, or her.

It was a conundrum.

The thermometer beeped, and he took it gently, reading it and taking note of the number. He set the instrument aside on the sterile paper, picking up the needle he had out next. He smiled slightly at Maddie, looking sheepish.

"I am going to need to draw a small amount of blood, my dear." he said, shrugging apologetically. Maddie's eyes widened, and she bit her lip, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.

"Um…okay." she said, nodding hesitantly.

"It won't take long, and all you'll feel is an initial prick." Ducky reassured her, a kind smile on his face. "I'll just need you to roll your sleeve up."

The seconds that it took Maddie to roll her sweater up were long and filled with tension.

Jenny watched with bated breath as slowly, more and more lines were revealed and more and more pain was exposed.

Ducky waited to see the extent of the damage; he waited to see just how heartbroken and destroyed this beautiful young woman had become.

Her pale, lily-white forearm was filled with red horizontal lines. Some were straight, almost calculated, but others were jagged, deep, as if done unthinkingly, in a rushed, hurried moment.

It appeared she'd used a razor blade; the cuts were deeper than if done with scissors, and even if it hadn't been intended, the damage would leave deep scars. The cuts on her arms were scabbed, which told both Jenny and Ducky that she'd cut recently.

Jenny looked at Maddie's arms, and though the sweater covered them, could tell the cuts extended up further, most likely over her bicep. While the cuts looked bad-because they were bad-Jenny knew they could be much worse. None appeared to be bleeding, which meant that although she'd cut recently, she hadn't cut within the past few hours.

That told Jenny that Maddie didn't cut before she acted; it appeared that Maddie was the kind of person that cut frantically, without a plan. She lived by her emotions; they influenced when and where she cut, and what with. Some people harmed themselves before going to do things, before going into situations that would require emotions. Maddie was definitely experiencing emotion now, so she was not one of those people.

It almost made her even more a danger to herself.

Ducky held in the wince that he felt when the cuts were revealed, but compared to some of the more gruesome bodies he'd seen, they were tame. They were horrible to see on this young woman, of course, but the fact that these had healed-if only slightly-meant that she was still alive.

The scabs held his attention; he could tell from their formation that they were from almost two days ago. And while it was a good sign that she had not cut too recently, it also meant that she might feel the urge to cut soon.

And he wasn't sure he knew of any way to stop her.

He could feel how uncomfortable Maddie was, and he knew that this next part would be even worse.

"I'm…I'm going to have to touch your arm to find a vein." Ducky said, finding his voice after a second. Maddie's minute nod was all the confirmation she gave, and Ducky gingerly touched her arm, trying to avoid the cuts as best her could, while still trying to find a thick enough vein. But he had to know. "Maddie, are there more cuts?"

As soon as there was skin to skin contact, Maddie had jumped, her eyes closing as she controlled herself. Her hands began to tremble, her fingers shaking as her breathing became shallower. At his words, her eyes opened slowly, the hazel irises wide at his question.

Slowly, hesitantly, she nodded.

"Madeline…I'm going to need to look at them." he said softly, looking at her seriously. Her hands clenched, her fists shaking as her eyes closed again.

"Please…" Maddie's tone practically begged him not to, and while it broke his heart, it needed to be done.

"I'm sorry to put this pressure on you, but I need to see them." Ducky said, trying to keep his voice gentle but also keeping it firm at the same time. He would not be messed with over this.

Jenny knew this would be hard. But it needed to be done. Maddie needed to be saved from herself.

Slowly, hesitantly, Maddie rolled up her other sleeve; her arm covered with cuts similar to her other arm. These cuts were worse however; some were covered with band-aids that were soaked through with blood, and it was obvious that they were very recent.

Which blew Jenny's theory out of the water.

"I'm going to…have to examine these. There is a risk of infection." Ducky said, keeping his shock inside. This was much worse than the other arm.

He was gentle as he probed the wounds, hating every wince and slight gasp his touch elicited. Maddie's shaking worsened, her entire body starting to quake at his touch. She couldn't keep still; it was physically impossible for her to not shake.

Jenny watched as Maddie started to fall apart, taking deep breaths through her nose to control herself. This was like torture; it was like looking back in time.

It was terrible.

"Madeline…are there more?" Ducky asked, dreading her answer. If she said yes, he really didn't know what he could do.

"No. These are it." she answered, avoiding his gaze, keeping it lowered and glued to the floor.

"When you get home, I'd like you to use a tiny amount of antiseptic and triple antibiotic cream on the worse cuts." Ducky said, his voice surprising steady, considering that inside he was in pure turmoil. "I'm going to re-bandage these with some gauze. It should hold until you get home."

Maddie nodded mutely, a tear trailing down her cheek as she stoically looked at the linoleum floor. Jenny desperately wished she could do something, anything, to help this troubled girl.

But that would require reliving the past. And right now, she wasn't strong enough to do that.

She didn't think she ever would be able to.

Ducky came back with a wet paper towel and a roll of gauze, setting the bandage on the table before looking at Maddie for permission to touch her again. She nodded minutely, holding her forearm up for him to examine.

Slowly, he peeled off the blood-soaked band-aids, revealing the red, raw cuts, the ripped flesh sending a swirl of remembering nausea through Jenny. It took everything she had not to remember the time when it had been _her_ arm that had held the fresh cuts, the torn skin. When she had been the one with blood-soaked bandages covering the evidence of her pain.

Ducky cleaned the revealed cuts gently, his touch soft against the ruined skin. He took his time drying them, double-checking for infection. Satisfied there was no disease present, he tenderly wrapped the cut, bruised forearms with gauze, securing the bandages with small strips of medical tape. Maddie tried to shake her sleeves back into place, but Ducky stopped her with a gentle hand, shaking his head.

"I'm still going to need to draw blood now." he said, lifting his hand as Maddie's shaking worsened, the trembling filling her slight frame again. He took the needle again, finding the blue vein near her elbow.

Jenny looked away when Ducky finally inserted the needle, unable to see the relief that would be in Maddie's eyes as her discomfort eased at the pain offered by the needle. She could hear Maddie's breathing regulate, and she was sure that if she checked, she'd find that the young woman's hands and body were no longer trembling quite so terribly. She'd find that Maddie looked less pale, that she looked just a fraction happier, relieved.

And she hated that she knew how that felt.

She hated that she knew what that relief was like. She hated that she knew what it felt like to relish pain, to think of pain as your only friend, your only ally.

She hated that that was what her past consisted of.

Because seeing those fresh, new scars on Maddie's arms had made the scars from long ago that marked her own arms tingle in a way that was anything but pleasant.

She was suddenly filled with a terrifying, breath-stealing sense of foreboding.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, alerts, and support so far. I know this isn't easy. And, I brought the rating down to 'T' because I felt like 'M' was too much. Maddie does recall her rape in this one, so be prepared. And, I don't think I've said it, but there will be Jibbs (and Tiva) in this _eventually_ (One-because I can't help myself, and two- it'll add to the plot of this story and to the two sequels I have planned for this storyline.).

Disclaimer: I only own the plot, the characters are DPB.

* * *

Jethro didn't know what to make of the changes Jenny was showing.

They'd been better recently, and he'd liked the change. He'd liked having her friendship back as a major part of his life.

When Hollis had walked into his life, Jenny had distanced herself, and he knew she'd been hurt. Hell, even he'd been hurt.

He was glad Hollis was going; their relationship had only been a distraction, he knew that. He knew she'd be happy in Hawaii, and he hoped that she found someone who cared about her.

The elevator dinged, signaling his arrival to his floor. Stepping off, he reached the bullpen, where he found Ziva sitting on Tony's desk, talking to him, and Tim had his chair pulled over to them as well. Rolling his eyes, he strode into the bullpen, going over to his desk, sitting down and pulling out a new case file.

Ziva hopped off of Tony's desk and went back to her desk, turning in her chair to look at Jethro.

"Gibbs?" she asked quietly, causing him to look up from the paper he was filling out. "Is everything…alright?"

Jethro took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly before speaking.

"Maddie was raped a few months ago, by a Marine by the name of Rudi Haas. She's now pregnant, and has the DNA to prove the rape," he said, watching as shock filled the three agents' eyes. "McGee, DiNozzo, I need you to pick Haas up, he lives on the Georgetown campus. David, you'll have to collect a witness statement from Maddie."

"On it Boss." Tony said, picking up his bag and motioning for Tim to follow. Ziva turned to Jethro, her brown eyes neutral.

"Maddie's been harming herself," he said, watching as her eyes flickered with some emotion and they darted up to glance at Jenny's office for a brief second. A question for another time, he supposed. "I want you to be as gentle, Officer David, as possible."

"It will not be a problem, Gibbs," Ziva replied, her tone indicating that she did not appreciate his insinuation. "Where is Maddie?"

"In Autopsy with Ducky and the Director," Jethro answered, eyes narrowing slightly, "The Director seems quite…interested, in this case."

"She is the Director," Ziva responded, arching an eyebrow. "She cares about all of our cases."

"I meant on a more…personal level," Jethro elaborated, watching as Ziva's eyes darkened slightly. He raised an eyebrow, curiosity filling him. Apparently, there was more to Jenny and Ziva's friendship than he knew. "Officer David?"

"It is not my place to say anything," she merely replied, turning away. "I will go and see how Maddie is."

Jethro watched her walk away, frowning as he crossed his arms over his chest. There were secrets written all over this, and he wasn't too pleased.

What else was Jenny hiding from him?

* * *

Jenny rode in the elevator with Maddie, the silence between them not awkward, but not exactly comfortable. The younger woman had her arms folded over her stomach, her sweater sleeves pulled back down to cover the gauze bandages covering her forearms.

Jenny spared her a glance, her stomach clenching at the pain barely concealed in those pretty hazel eyes. She quickly diverted her gaze, taking a deep breath as she studied the tips of her copper stilettos.

They reached the ground floor, and standing in front of the elevator was none other than Ziva. Her eyes brightened slightly upon seeing them before fading when she looked at Maddie. She looked at Jenny, eyebrows contracting slightly-a sign that they needed to talk.

Which was not what Jenny needed- she could not handle an interrogation from her friend. Her walls were already shaky; she didn't have the energy to fake it with Ziva.

"Director Shepard, Maddie," Ziva said, nodding to them in turn. "Agent Gibbs asked me to take you to a conference room to take your statement, Maddie."

"Thank you, Officer David," Jenny said, bestowing a tiny smile on her friend before turning to Maddie. "I'll be in my office Maddie, if you need anything."

"Thank you, Director," Maddie said softly, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly before she followed Ziva up to a conference room. Jenny took a deep breath, walking out of the elevator and walking towards the stairs to her office.

"Jen!"

"_Jen, c'mon! Get on the damn bed! Do it now!"_

Suddenly, she was transported back to his bedroom, back to high school, back to a moment where her life had changed forever. She closed her eyes, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"_If you really loved me you'd do it. C'mon Jenny what are you waiting for. Don't you love me?"_

She decided holding her breath was a better idea; her chest began to burn, but still, she was stuck in his room; a room that smelled like beer and smoke and musk. He was over her, his face close to hers, his hands running over her, touching her.

"_Jenny…Jenny…Jenny…"_

"Jenny!"

She was finally snapped out of her reverie, and she turned to face a concerned-looking Jethro; his blue eyes wide with worry. She tried to take a deep breath, finding that her lungs wouldn't cooperate; she couldn't get the air in. She coughed, finding that that released the tension, and drew the much-needed air into her lungs.

"Jen, are you okay?" Jethro asked, resisting the urge to touch her. Her eyes carried a wild, scared look, like she was trapped and she couldn't get out. "Jenny?"

"I'm fine," she snapped, stepping away and taking a deep breath, looking everywhere but him.

"Obviously you aren't Jen!" he retorted, wincing at the hurt that flashed in her eyes at his loud voice.

"I am fine, Special Agent Gibbs," Jenny said, authority dripping from her tone as she rose to her full height, her eyes clearing. "Get back to your job."

And with that, she stormed up the stairs to her office, closing the door securely behind her.

All Jethro could do was wonder what the hell was going on.

* * *

Ziva David had seen many broken women.

Being from Israel, it was not uncommon to find devastation. And, in her line of work, pain was a necessary evil. But seeing a woman who did not need to be broken was not something Ziva enjoyed.

Because seeing Maddie Tyler was like seeing a younger version of a very strong woman who had broken down in front of Ziva before. A woman who never let her walls down, except when completely necessary.

A woman Ziva cared deeply for, and hated to see in pain.

Taking a deep breath, she let Maddie into the conference room, seating her at a chair and pouring her a glass of water, placing it next to the box of tissues on the table near her. She turned to a clean sheet on paper, poising her pen over the white surface and offering the younger woman a hesitant smile.

"You can start when you are ready, Maddie," Ziva said, her voice soft. Maddie startled slightly, sitting forward slightly in her chair, her eyes widening. She coughed, clearing her throat, before starting her ordeal in a quiet voice.

"We were just getting back from dinner at Outback Steakhouse, and Rudi walked me to my door. I had just unlocked my door, and I told him that I didn't think we should see each other anymore; I wasn't ready for something serious. He…he didn't take it well. He pushed me inside, locking the door behind him. He pushed me into my bedroom just down the hall, and he…threw me in the middle of my bed."

"I…I tried to fight him off, but he was so much stronger than I was. He…he ripped my shirt off and tugged off my skirt, and then he undressed himself while keeping me pinned down. Then he…he, um, he pulled my panties off and then he…he…" Maddie began to sob, and Ziva gently pushed the tissues closer to her. Maddie grabbed a few, blowing her nose and mopping up her tears before taking a deep breath and continuing. "He was inside me and…and it was horrible. He…stayed the night, into the next day. He left the morning after that."

"Maddie…how many times did he rape you?" Ziva asked, knowing that no matter how much time had gone by, she would never forget. Maddie's eyes welled up again, and Ziva resisted the urge to wince; tears weren't exactly her strong part, that she knew.

"Eight," Maddie whispered, looking down into her lap while her fingers tore her tissue into a mangled white pile. Ziva barely held in her gasp, instead focusing on writing the information down. "Is…is that all?"

"Yes, that is it for now," Ziva confirmed, nodding her head. Maddie let out a quiet sigh, looking down into her lap again. "I will take you down into the squad room."

"Thank you, Officer David," Maddie said quietly, darting her eyes up to meet Ziva's briefly.

"You are welcome, Maddie," Ziva replied, offering the grin a small smile.

"Thank you for listening," Maddie whispered, keeping her gaze down. "You listened to me. The police officers…they didn't really listen."

Ziva slid her hands across the table, touching Maddie's hand very briefly, merely brushing her fingertips across the back of Maddie's hand.

"We will always hear what you have to say, Maddie," Ziva said, keeping her gaze on the younger woman. "Always."

Maddie merely smiled her ghost of a smile, keeping her gaze on her lap. Ziva sat back, taking a deep breath.

The similarities were glaring her in the face.

She needed to talk to Jenny.

* * *

Jenny Shepard paced her office, trying to keep her mind from thinking.

It wasn't working.

Her hands were shaking as she paced, and her spine would tingle every once in a while, remnants of her flashbacks filling her. She shuddered, his face floating above her still, his breath hot on her neck.

"_Jenny, why are you making me wait? I thought you loved me. Jenny, why? Why Jenny? Why Jenny?"_

"Leave me alone," she whispered, her hands gripping her desk as she tried to push the memories back down. They'd been suppressed for so long; she hadn't thought about it this much and with this intensity in years.

And she was being reminded all over again why, exactly, she didn't.

She jumped at the sound of her intercom, rounding her desk and pressing the button.

"Yes Cynthia?"

"Director, Office David wanted me to inform you that she has finished with the interview with Maddie Tyler, and that she would like to see you as soon as you are free," her assistant informed her, making Jenny sigh softly.

"Tell her I'll call her later. Thank you Cynthia," Jenny said, waiting for her assistant's affirmation before shutting the intercom off. She collapsed into her chair, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Moments later, her phone rang, and she resisted the urge to curse loudly. "Director Shepard."

"Hello, Jennifer, it's Ducky," came through the phone, and Jenny had to stop the groan from escaping her lips. This was just as bad as Ziva.

"Hello Ducky," she said, keeping her tone neutral. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you were alright, my dear," the elderly ME said, concern coloring his tone. "Autopsy wasn't the most pleasant sight in the world."

"I'm fine, Ducky," she said, knowing she was far from fine.

"That is not what Jethro said, Jenny," Ducky said, his tone growing a touch harder. Jenny rolled her eyes, clenching her jaw. "He said that you were in the bullpen and-"

"Dr. Mallard, I am fine. Agent Gibbs does not know what he talking about. It is none of his business," Jenny said, finality in her tone. "Is there anything else?"

"Jennifer, please-"

"Dr. Mallard, I have work I need to do. I will speak with you later," Jenny said, placing the phone back in the cradle, knowing she was being cruel.

She didn't know how much longer she could pretend. It was already starting to kill her, all over again.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews, and all of the alerts (which there quite a lot after last chapter!). This chapter is a little better (there's a little comic relief-albeit dark comic relief- from the wonderful Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo), but still pretty dark.

Disclaimer: DPB owns the characters, I merely own the plot.

"_I'm not a stranger, no I am yours, with crippled anger, and tears that still drip sore," –"Cut", Plumb

* * *

_

Tony and Tim walked together into the college dorm rooms, surrounded by students moving between the recreational rooms and bedrooms. For once, Tony was not looking at the teenaged, barely dressed college girls, instead focused on finding Rudi Haas. This meant something of significance to his boss, and he wouldn't screw it up. There was too much at stake this time.

Tim found the correct room number, nodding to Tony, who returned the nod, motioning for him to knock on the door. Tim turned the nod, his hand reaching up to rap on the door. There were a few moments of silence before it was opened by a shorter man with close-cropped brown hair and hard green eyes. He glared at them, questioning.

"Who're you?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Tony reached into his pocket, pulling out his badge, showing him.

"I'm Special Agent DiNozzo, this is Special Agent McGee. We're here to take you in for questioning," Tony said, watching as the man's eyes flashed. In that moment, Tony knew what was going to happen, and he internally sighed.

They never made it easy.

Haas slammed the door, but Tony jammed his foot in the door just in time, his shoe taking the brunt of the blow. Haas ran through the room, heading for the open window. Tim saw the intent and lunged, catching Haas' ankle and bringing him crashing down to the ground.

Tony placed a knee on his back, swiftly cuffing him and yanking him up, jerking his arm painfully. Haas winced, trying to struggle against the cuffs. Tony put a restraining hand on his shoulder, internally groaning as the pain in his side reacted to his movements.

He hated when they tried to run.

Tim read him his rights as they walked to the car, ignoring the stares of the student body. Haas kept his gaze on the ground, studiously ignoring the murmurings of his fellow classmates.

When they reached the car, Tony stuffed Haas in the back, tossing Tim the keys and climbing into the passenger side, buckling his seatbelt and gazing out the window as Tim sped towards the agency.

His thoughts turned to Maddie. She was pretty, and she seemed so innocent. He couldn't believe such a crime had been committed on her; rape was a touchy subject always, but to have been committed on the boss' daughter's best friend…it was too much.

And Director Shepard. She was another story entirely. He knew that she was still wary of his feelings towards her, on some level. Yes, Jeanne had hurt him, but it wasn't her fault. His thoughts had been clouded with Jeanne's distrust and uncertainty towards him, and he'd taken it out on her. But she'd been right; he'd gotten in too deep, and he'd suffered the consequences.

But he still cared about Jenny, and from what he'd gleaned from a quick phone call to Ziva, things were not all sunshine and daisies. Not that he'd expected them to be, but even Ziva hadn't been able to keep the tremor of concern out of her voice when she'd spoken of Jenny.

There was much more than just this case going on, and Tony could only pray that the shockwaves of this case wouldn't engulf them.

They'd already suffered too much.

* * *

Abby Sciuto looked up with a smile when Ducky walked into her lab, turning to face him.

"Hey Duckman what can I do for you?" she asked, her smile faltering at the serious look on his face. "Ducky? What's wrong?"

"Well, nothing is 'wrong' per say, but rather, something is not right," Ducky said, choosing his words carefully. Abby's brow furrowed in confusion, her pupils dilating as she looked up at him.

"Well then what isn't right?" she asked, folding her arms over her lab table as she waited for his answer. He sighed, dropping his hands onto the table across from her, leaning against them as they spoke.

"Have you heard about Maddie yet, my dear?"

"Maddie? Maddie who?" Abby asked, obviously confused.

"Madeline Tyler, Abigail," Ducky said, waiting. She shook her head, concern flushing through her.

"No, I haven't. What about her?" she asked, tilting her head in question.

"She was raped by a Marine a few months ago, and is now pregnant," Ducky said, watching as Abby's gaze filled with horror. "She was Kelly's best friend."

"Wait…" Abby whispered, her voice thick. "You mean…you mean Gibbs' Kelly?"

"That's exactly who I mean," Ducky replied, reaching over to slip his hand over hers on the table. Abby's eyes filled with tears, and she hastily wiped them away, smearing her thick mascara slightly.

"But…but how is Gibbs taking it?" she asked shakily, taking a deep breath to compose herself.

"According to the Director, he is keeping his emotions inside," Ducky said, a frown creasing his brow at the mention of Jenny.

"Ducky?" Abby asked, waiting for his gaze to return to her. "Ducky, why are you looking like that? What's wrong with Jenny?"

"To be honest, I do not know, Abigail," Ducky admitted, a heavy sigh bowing his shoulders. "But I know that there are things that are not being said by both the Director and Jethro."

"Are Mommy and Daddy fighting?" Abby asked, her adopted name of Jenny and Jethro causing the corner of Ducky's mouth to twitch up in amusement, before her question caused him to frown again.

"Well, I do not think that 'fighting' is the proper term for it," Ducky said, his forehead creasing in thought. "But they are certainly not getting along."

"What do you mean, Ducky?" Abby asked, leaning forward slightly. Ducky sighed, shaking his head.

"There are too many secrets coming forth because of this case, Abigail," Ducky merely said in reply.

"More secrets?" Abby asked, her eyes flashing. "I am sick and tired of secrets."

"We all are, Abs," Jethro said from behind them, walking into the lab. "Having fun, Dr. Mallard?"

"Merely informing Abigail of the case," Ducky said, shrugging before nodding once to the both of them and leaving the lab. Abby looked at Gibbs for a moment before launching herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Abs, I can't breathe," Jethro said after a few moments, still in her bone-crushing embrace. She let go, still looking at him with wide eyes. "What Abs?"

"Gibbs, you know what," Abby said, her voice suddenly inexplicably reminding him of Kelly. He swallowed hard, bringing himself back to the present.

"Abby, not now," he said, watching as her eyes flashed. "Please, Abs, I can't do this now."

"When, then, Gibbs?" Abby cried, throwing her hands up. "You never want to talk, ever! Why not right now? She's your daughter's best friend! Act like you feel something over this, for once!"

Jethro looked at Abby, unable to form a coherent thought for a moment. He was used to reactions like this from Ziva, or Ducky, and definitely Jenny. In fact, he was almost waiting for Jenny's reaction. Well, he was waiting for Jenny to start acting like Jenny again, and then he was waiting for Jenny's reaction.

He shook his head, pushing his worries of Jenny away. He couldn't worry about her right now. Later, there would be plenty of time to worry about Jenny, and analyze her actions.

"Abby…" he started, but she shook her head, standing.

"Gibbs, I'm done trying to get you to open up. I've tried, and I can't keep doing it," Abby sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "Go interrogate your suspect. Get it all out the way you need to. Just know that you have people that care, a lot."

And with that, Abby Sciuto walked into the back of her lab, leaving Leroy Jethro Gibbs speechless.

* * *

When Jenny Shepard left her office, she was calm and composed, all evidence of her almost-breakdown wiped away.

She strode purposefully towards the bullpen, thanking God that Jethro wasn't alone in the bullpen. Ziva raised her chocolate brown eyes to look at her, her forehead contracting as Jenny merely raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"DC police are faxing over Maddie's file from when she reported her rape," Jenny said, looking between Jethro and Ziva. "It has the pictures of the bruises and her statement."

"Why would those be necessary now, Director?" Ziva asked, walking over to the fax machine and finding the documents, pulling them out.

"They'll be useful for Rudi Haas' interrogation," Jenny explained, watching as Jethro's eye's flashed. "I'll be handling his interrogation."

"No you will not. You have no right, this is my-" Jethro started, but Jenny glared, cutting him off.

"I have every right, I am the Director of this agency. I can dig into any case I want to, and threats of getting behind my desk won't work this time, Agent Gibbs," she snapped, glaring at him forcefully. "So yes, I will be handling the interrogation. Feel free to watch."

And with that, Jenny strode purposefully towards Interrogation, leaving the sound of her heels clicking in her wake.

Ziva looked at her boss, taking in his slightly-stunned, obviously-confused face. She sighed, shaking her head.

At the rate Jenny was moving, Ziva doubted Rudi Haas would be able to stand by the time his interrogation was over.

* * *

Jenny Shepard's mask of calm didn't slip as she sat in the Interrogation chair, watching Rudi Haas sweat.

She could tell that a bruise was forming along his right cheekbone, most likely from the fall he'd taken trying to outrun Tony and Tim. He was still cuffed, his hands behind his back and his shoulders hunched in an attempt to relieve the stress on his muscles.

The similarities between Rudi and the man in her memory were eerie. She found herself lapsing in and out of his bedroom, the smell of musk and beer and smoke clogging her sense. She took a deep breath, remaining in the present.

"You know why you're here," she said, opening the case file. Rudi's jaw clenched, a muscles in his jaw jumping. "Don't you?"

"That arrogant Agent told me I raped Maddie," he answered, her voice hard. "I didn't lay a hand on her."

"That's not what she says," Jenny replied, slipping out one of the photos the police had faxed over. She slid it in front of him, watching his eyes tighten. "Those bruises, on her arms and torso, are from your fists, Rudi. Her bloody lip is from your knuckles smacking into her face. Look at your handiwork, Rudi."

"I didn't do that," Rudi snapped, glaring at her. "We had sex, yeah, but I didn't hurt her."

"I find that hard to believe," Jenny said, slipping out another picture of a battered Maddie. "She's already told us her side of the story. Why don't you tell us yours?"

"We went out to eat, and when I drove back to her place, she invited me inside," Rudi said, his eyes flashing and then dodging to the left corner of his eye. "We had sex, and then I left. End of story."

"Well according to Maddie, you shoved her inside and then raped her multiple times, staying with her for over twenty four hours and letting the evidence disappear," Jenny said, checking her notes. "Do you know what the punishment is for rape, Rudi? Especially for Marines?"

"No," Rudi replied, still glaring.

"Dishonorable discharge, twenty five to life in prison, sex offender registry, and no chance at a normal life ever again," Jenny said, reading off the list with cold, calculated accuracy, her voice hard flint.

"I didn't do a thing to her!" Rudi said, pushing himself into a standing position, flinging his chair back.

But Jenny didn't notice.

Suddenly, she was seventeen again, sitting in that courtroom, her best friend's big, storm-gray eyes wide with fear, boring into hers.

"_I didn't do a thing to her!" Bobby said, standing up in the courtroom, his harsh brown eyes glinting with hatred. "She's lying, I never touched Lizzie!"_

"_Sit down, Mr. Austin, or I will find you in contempt," the judge said, turning back to Jenny, still sitting in the witness stand. "Please continue, Miss Shepard."_

_Jenny looked out into the courtroom, seeing Lizzie's parents sitting near her father, her support unit. Her dad nodded encouragingly, his green eyes giving her the strength she desperately needed._

"_Lizzie came to my house a few hours after…she had a bloody lip and bruises on her cheeks, and she'd been crying," Jenny said, gripping the edges of the chair with her hands, the wooden edge digging into her palms. "She said that…that Bobby had shown up drunk, pushed into her house, and threw her onto her bed."_

"_Where were Miss Evans' parents at the time?" Bobby's defense lawyer asked, her brown locks cut into a short pixie style._

"_They went with her older sister, Ashley, to look at a local college," Jenny answered, fingering one of her thick crimson curls nervously._

"_What did Miss Evans say when she arrived?" the lawyer asked, looking at her intently._

_Jenny took a deep breath, locking her gaze with Lizzie, that night coming back crystal clear. The admittance, the fear, the tears. Lizzie's gray eyes filled with tears, and Jenny knew that she was reliving that night too._

"_She said that Bobby Austin raped her."_


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Happy 17th Birthday Evelyn! This is for you babydoll (you gonna call me a line stealer now? ;D) –I love you! :)

Disclaimer: I own only the plot and my own OCs.

"_A fragile frame aged with misery, and when our eyes meet, I know you see," –'Cut', Plumb

* * *

_

The second Jethro saw Rudi Haas stand up in interrogation, he tensed, watching as the Marine's eyes flashed with hatred and anger, and he knew he needed to get Jen out.

Especially because it seemed like she wasn't moving. At all.

Tony and Ziva followed him out of Observation and into the interrogation room; he and Tony pushed Haas against the wall, but the Marine struggled against them, tugging at the cuffs around his wrists, the metal groaning against his strength.

Ziva went to Jenny's side immediately, recognizing that she was in the middle of a flashback from the haunted look in the redhead's eyes, and she wrapped her arms around her, leading her out of the interrogation room, where Gibbs and Tony were still grappling with Haas.

Ziva took Jenny to the elevator, eternally grateful that they encountered no one. Settling the older woman in the elevator, Ziva pressed the button for the Director's office, but when tears began to slip down Jenny's cheeks, Ziva flipped the emergency stop switch, sinking down to the ground with Jenny's face buried in her shoulder, her tears warm against her skin.

"Sh, Jenny, it is alright," she said softly, rubbing her friend's back gently as the redhead sobbed quietly. She held Jenny's back throughout the length of her sobs, hating that her friend had to go through this again. It had been hard enough in Cairo, and Ziva could only hope that Jenny would never have to go through that situation again.

Because Ziva honestly didn't know if she could protect her this time.

"Lizzie, she's gone, he…it's all my fault," Jenny whispered brokenly, her sobs slowly turning to hiccups, and she lifted her head to look at Ziva, her pretty green eyes sparkling with tears. "I…I didn't, I didn't know that, that she was so…so sad."

"It is not your fault, Jenny," Ziva replied, smoothing back the redhead's hair, trying to sooth her. Jenny shook her head, her tears rolling down from her eyes to her cheeks, coursing in rivers.

"I should have…should have know I-I was her-her best friend, I was-was supposed to know ev-everything about her," Jenny protested, working herself up again as she struggled to catch her breath, her chest tightening as she fought to take a deep breath amidst her sobs. Ziva's heart tightened and she took a deep breath, pain filling her.

"You could not have known everything about her, Jenny," she said softly, touching her friend's hand. "She didn't want to tell you because she loved you, and she did not want to hurt you."

"But-but it still hurt. Lizzie…Lizzie is gone, and-and I can't bring her back," Jenny said, tears filling her eyes again before she dropped her face into her hands, sobs rippling through her tiny frame. Ziva winced, touching Jenny's back gently, wishing she knew of some other way to comfort her.

They sat like that-crumpled on the elevator floor- for a while, Ziva merely letting Jenny cry for as long as she needed. Once Jenny was cried out, Ziva knew it would be a short time before she realized she was not seventeen, and Ziva needed to get Jenny into her office before that happened.

"Jenny?" she asked quietly, stopping the stroking motions of her hand on Jenny's hair for a moment. The redhead murmured in disproval, pressing her head back into Ziva's hand. A faint smile crossed Ziva's face as she continued the motions, and she sighed, breathing out a rush of air. "Jenny we need to get back to your office."

Jenny looked up, confusion filling her irises.

"I need to get up," Ziva said, helping Jenny sit up before standing herself and flicking the switch, restarting the elevator. Jenny leaned against the elevator wall, closing her eyes briefly as her head rested against the cool metal. The doors opened to a blissfully clear catwalk, and Ziva beckoned for Jenny to step forward. "We are here, Jenny."

Ziva led Jenny into her office, past Cynthia's empty desk, and settled Jenny on the couch, making sure she was comfortable. The redhead drifted off to sleep, curled into a tight ball, her back pressed firmly into the back cushions of the couch. Ziva watched her, frowning.

Flashbacks were not a good sign. If this case was affecting Jenny to the point where it was reducing her to a blubbering seventeen year old, then this was serious.

Ziva sighed, rubbing at her eyes briefly. Now, she had to go deal with Gibbs and his questions.

Questions she had no real right to answer.

* * *

Jethro was concerned. More than concerned. He wanted to know what the hell was wrong with Jenny.

She never froze in interrogation, ever. Suspects didn't even make her flinch, and yet Rudi Haas had reduced her to next to nothing.

And he wanted to know why.

He pressed Haas a little more firmly into the wall, digging the cuffs into the Marine's wrists. Tony followed suit on Haas' other side, the younger agent's face a hard mask as he restrained the Marine further. Together, they threw him into a chair, where he struggled momentarily before realizing that the attempt was futile.

Tony closed the interrogation room door while Jethro slid into the seat across from Haas, flipping the chair around and straddling it, glancing down at the case file pictures.

"You sure you don't wanna change your story, Haas?" Jethro asked, his voice betraying none of his emotions. Haas' eyes flared, the anger rekindling in them.

"I got nothin' to change or add to my story. What I'm tellin' y'all is the truth, and I'm fuckin' sick of all y'all tryin' to change it," he spat, his face livid. "I didn't touch one hair on that whore's head, and it don't matter what she says. She's a lyin' bitch."

"Do you really want to say that about the mother of your child, Rudi?" Tony asked, his tone harsh and brutal, watching as Haas' eyes widened, fear glittering momentarily in the mud brown irises. "Oh, I take it you were unaware?"

"Wha-whatdya mean, mother of my child?" Haas asked, swallowing hard. He looked between Jethro and Tony, breathing heavily. "What the hell are you talking about, Agent Prettypants?"

"He's talking about the fact that Maddie is carrying your child, because you raped her, and you weren't wearing a condom," Jethro answered, folding his arms over the chair and staring at Haas, unblinking. "She's pregnant, Rudi. And when the DNA tests come back, they'll make you the father, and you'll have no evidence to the contrary. You raped her. You're done."

Haas stared back at them, stunned. He gulped, breathing in harshly through his nose.

"I-I…"

"Save it, Haas," Tony said, glaring at the Marine. "We're finished."

Tony and Jethro left Haas in the interrogation room, still stunned into silence. Tony was obviously still smarting over Haas' comment, as he stood brooding in the elevator, waiting for Jethro.

"Don't let it get to you, DiNozzo," Jethro said, not looking at him. He felt Tony uncross his arms and look at him, obviously confused. "Don't let what Haas said bug you. He said it to get to you, and its working. Don't let him win."

"Right boss," Tony said, relaxing his shoulders and taking a deep breath, washing away the thoughts. "D'you know what happened to Ziva and the Director?"

"Not a clue DiNozzo," Jethro said, stepping off when the elevator reached the bullpen, striding over to his desk.

To be honest, he wanted to find Jen as soon as possible and make sure she was alright; something was not right, and he was determined to find out what it was. Jenny was not acting like Jenny, and it worried him.

Finding Ziva sitting at her desk, he turned to her, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Where is the Director, Officer David?" he asked, watching her fingers tense slightly around her pen before relaxing as she raised her gaze to his.

"She is in her office, Gibbs," Ziva answered, her tone neutral. "She asked not to be disturbed."

"Any particular reason why?" Jethro pressed, watching as some emotion flashed through Ziva's eyes. Anger? Confusion?

Frustration?

"I do not believe that the Director's business is any of your own business, Gibbs," Ziva replied, her face tight as she kept all emotion off of her face. Irritation flashed through Jethro, and he fought to keep the glare off of his face. "She just asked to not be disturbed by anyone."

Jethro merely twisted his mouth, turning to look up at Jenny's office. There was a good chance that she would kill him if he went up there, if she really didn't want to be disturbed. But if something was really wrong with her, he needed to be sure that she was okay.

Was it worth the risk?

Deciding he cared more about Jenny than his health, he pushed out of his chair, striding to the stairs and taking them two at a time.

"Gibbs, Jenny is not to be disturbed!" Ziva yelled, anger and irritation highlighting both her chocolate brown eyes and her tanned face. For a moment Jethro paused, trying to read into the Israeli's face, but couldn't see past her emotions.

Normally, he'd listen to Ziva and not bother Jen, but today, he needed to be sure that she was okay. So, he continued on into Jenny's office, feeling Ziva's eyes boring into his back like daggers. Frowning when he encountered Cynthia's empty desk, he grasped the handle to go into Jenny's office, breathing a soft sigh of relief when it opened.

He had just stepped into her office when he heard the sounds of someone retching, and he glanced around, finding the door to Jenny's in-suite bathroom open a crack, and light pouring out from under the doorway. Reaching the doorway, he found her crouched over the toilet, one hand gripping the bowl and the other holding back her hair as she heaved up the contents of her stomach.

He came up behind her, holding her hair and touching her back gently, feeling her tense underneath his fingertips. He murmured softly in her ear, feeling her relax minutely, but tension was still present in her muscles. He frowned, rubbing her back as she finished, gasping for air as she waited for her stomach to contract again.

Finally, she pushed away from the toilet, flushing it as she moved away from him, going over to the sink and filling a small cup with water, swirling it around her mouth before spitting it back into the sink and filling the cup up again, taking a deep drink of water. He watched her silently, waiting for her to speak first.

"Why are you here Jethro?" she asked quietly, sounding exhausted and drained. She turned to look at him, her hands gripping the edge of the sink, the paper cup crumpled in her left hand.

"Came to see if you were okay. I'm glad I did," he said with a shrug, pushing himself off of the wall, folding his arms over his chest as he observed her. She sighed, hanging her head as she rubbed at her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Jethro, I'm fine," she said, tossing the cup into a small trash bin in the corner of the bathroom.

"Generally when someone says they're fine, they're lying," Jethro commented, watching her shoulders tense and her hands clench together, her nails digging into her palms. "Jen?"

"What Jethro?" she asked, exasperated. "What do you want from me?"

"I just want to know if you're okay Jen," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. Her eyes glinted with some emotion he couldn't catch, and he frowned, curious.

"Jethro, I'm fine," Jenny insisted, moving to get past him, back into her office. He stopped her, his hands gripping her forearms, and she unintentionally flinched. He immediately let go, concern flushing through him.

"Jen?" he asked, watching her green eyes start to swim as her body swayed, her hands reaching to grip the doorway. "Jenny what's wrong?"

"My head," she started, her voice light and airy as her eyes fluttered. "I feel dizzy."

He caught her as she fell, her body weighing next to nothing in his arms. He picked her up gently, carrying her over to her couch and stretching her out on it, resting his hand on her forehead, frowning at the warmth radiating from it.

Pulling his cell phone out, he called Autopsy, watching Jenny with concern.

"Hey Duck, it's me. I need you to come up and check on Jenny," he said when Ducky answered, still watching Jen. "She fainted about a minute ago."

After receiving Ducky's confirmation, he clicked the phone shut, slipping it back into his pocket and touching Jenny's cheek with his fingertips, frowning when she moaned quietly, moving away from his fingers.

"Lizzie…"

It was faint, but he caught it. Who was Lizzie?

"No, Bobby, please, not her, not Lizzie."

Another name. Bobby? Bobby, Lizzie? Who were these people?

"No-Lizzie!"

Suddenly, Jenny started to thrash, her back arching and her head pressing into the cushions, her hands curling and uncurling into fists. Jethro pressed his hands into hers, gripping her wrists as he whispered soothingly into her ear, trying to calm her down. Eventually she stopped, whimpering quietly as she curled into the fetal position, tucking her knees up under her chin.

Jethro sat back, feeling utterly exhausted and drained. What the hell was going on?

As he sat and waited for Ducky, he scratched his head, confused beyond belief and concerned for Jenny's health-both physical and mental. He watched her sleep, taking in her flushed cheeks and her parted lips.

He couldn't help noticing how she even looked upset when she was asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews-especially to my best friend on this entire planet and the inspiration (and driving force) behind this story, Evelyn. She just made an account, and I'm super excited! :D I love you babydoll, very much, and you have no idea how proud I am of you. You inspire me.  
And there is so much angst in this chapter it's hard to see through it. It's Jibbs, but Jethro doesn't make things better. Not by a long shot. (I also stole a line from a very famous movie (that never fails to make me sob, as I am now) I was watching while writing this. Brownie points to anyone that figures it out and lets me know in a review what the line/movie is)

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs.

"_It's getting harder to stay awake, and my strength is fading fast, you breathe into me at last," –'Awake and Alive', Skillet

* * *

_

Jethro waited for Ducky to arrive, his hand occasionally stroking through Jenny's hair, but she no longer stirred. She'd slipped into a much deeper sleep, no longer moaning or thrashing because of her dreams. He didn't know if that worried or comforted him.

"Sorry it took me so long Jethro, Mr. Palmer is incapable of following instructions, I do believe," Ducky said as he opened the door, a handheld black bag in his grip that he set down on the table near Jenny's couch. "But I can tell you do not want to hear the story. What happened, exactly?"

"We, uh…we were arguing, and she fainted," Jethro explained, scratching the back of his neck, feeling Ducky's gaze on him. "She…she threw up, a few minutes before she fainted."

"Jethro, this is worrying," Ducky said, alarm flaring in his eyes. "Jennifer's mental state is seeming to deteriorate, and now she is showing physical symptoms."

"What can I do Ducky?" Jethro asked, his voice strained as he looked at Jenny again, his heart constricting as a frown filled her features, her mouth contorting in her sleep.

"Jethro, I do not think that there is anything you _can_ do. You are not involved with Jennifer, and you do not know how her day to day life is. No one does, Jethro," Ducky said, as gently as he possibly could. "Jethro, the only person who can help Jennifer is truly herself. Unless she confides in someone, she is alone."

Even if Ducky hadn't meant them to, his words cut to the core. The fact that Jenny was alone-that she had to deal with whatever it was this was-physically hurt him.

He wanted Jenny to be happy; he wanted her to be happy, and healthy, and not hurting. But she was exactly the opposite, and he knew it was partially his fault. He couldn't make up his damn mind, and all he was doing was pushing aside an issue they both needed to address.

"Duck, I want her to be safe," Jethro said, sighing heavily as he rubbed at his eyes, looking as though he was Atlas, and he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Jethro, some things are out of your control," Ducky replied, touching his shoulder briefly. "You both made choices, and now you have to deal with them."

"Ducky, she made the choice," Jethro said, his voice hoarse. "She left me."

"Yes, and then you left her," Ducky said, his gaze turning hard. Jethro's stare turned a touch surprised, and he frowned.

"I never left her, Duck."

"Yes, you did Jethro," Ducky said, shaking his head. Jethro's frown deepened, and Ducky sighed quietly. "You don't remember everything before your coma, do you?"

"Don't remember what Ducky?" Jethro asked, starting to become impatient.

"Between her kidnapping and your memory loss, you got involved with Jenny again," Ducky explained, watching the shock cross Jethro's face. "When you left and obviously didn't remember, it killed her."

"But…why didn't Jen say anything?" Jethro whispered, feeling Ducky's words cut deep. "Why'd she just let me leave without saying anything to me?"

"Because, Jethro, she knew how much you were hurting," Ducky said, eyes flashing. "She saw how devastated you were over Shannon and Kelly, and she in turn was hurt because of what you kept from her. She thought that if she let you go then you would come back and remember, and after you had healed you could start again."

"But then I didn't remember," Jethro said quietly, his gaze flicking to Jenny's sleeping form.

"And then you got involved with Mann, and Jennifer lost all hope. She threw herself even more into finding La Grenouille, and she tried to forget that anything had ever happened between you two again," Ducky continued, trying to be gentle, but knowing the knowledge would be killing Gibbs regardless.

"It's all my fault," Jethro said, clenching his hand into a fist, shaking.

"Jethro, it is not your fault you cannot remember," Ducky started, but Jethro shook his head.

"I should have. I've been hurting Jenny so much these past few months. I pushed Hollis in front of Jen, and I had no right to," Jethro interrupted, his mouth turning into a hard line. "She's been silent, and it's been killing her."

"She learned from the best Jethro," Ducky said, watching as Gibbs flinched slightly, his shoulders contracting. "I best examine her now."

Jethro stood aside as Ducky knelt to examine Jenny, watching him carefully. This new information gave him so much more to think about.

He couldn't believe Jenny hadn't said anything. And he hated that he couldn't remember any of it.

He could remember her kidnap vividly; his worry, his fear. His need to bring her home safe. But when he really thought back, he couldn't remember much past driving her home that night. He didn't remember going home, but also didn't remember staying the night.

His next memories were ones of Shannon and Kelly. His spine stiffened as memories flooded him, but he pushed them away, drawing oxygen deep into his lungs to refocus himself.

But when he really thought back to Mexico, back to remembering, he paused. When he'd started to remember Jenny, it had been in flashes. Erotic flashes, but flashes nonetheless. And when he sorted through them, though, he remembered her study.

He'd pushed it off as being from when they'd been partners. He hadn't thought about the fact that they'd never had sex in her study.

Why had Jenny kept this from him? He understood that she'd wanted him to heal; he'd needed it, that he knew. But when he came back, why had she not said anything?

He held in his frustrated sigh, not wanting to distract Ducky from his exam of Jenny. He wanted to head slap himself; he'd wasted so much god damn time because he was stupid, and still full of too much pride for his own damn good.

"Jethro, I think the only thing you can do for Jennifer is to let her sleep," Ducky said when he finished examining her, straightening up and slipping his stethoscope back into his bag. "She just needs to rest, and then have a decent meal when she awakens."

"Alright Duck," Jethro said, nodding as he kept his eyes on Jenny. "Thanks."

"Call me when she wakes up Jethro," Ducky said, grasping the handles of his bag and heading towards the door, his hand gripping the door handle. "I want to know how long she sleeps for."

"Will do Duck," Jethro replied, watching him leave the office, shutting the door with a soft 'click'.

He turned to look at Jenny, who started to shiver, her thin framing quaking as she tried to burrow deeper into the cushions. It took him a few moments, but he finally located a thick blanket in a cabinet near her desk. Spreading the soft, sea-green woolen blanket over her, he ran his fingers through her hair, twirling a single ringlet round his finger.

He hated secrets.

* * *

"_Come on Jenny, you can't seriously think he likes me," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. Jenny, Lizzie, and their friend Apryl were in Lizzie's room, surrounded with snack food and teen girl magazines._

_They were sixteen, juniors in high school, and the best of friends. They'd gathered at Lizzie's afterschool to have 'girl time', because they all desperately needed it. Finals were starting in a few weeks, and they'd spent the past two weeks studying._

"_I'm not kidding, Liz, he does!" Jenny said, giggling._

"_I can't believe that you don't think that Nick Tarsel likes you," Apryl said, shaking her head, her thick ebony curls bouncing._

"_I know he doesn't," Lizzie said matter-of-factly, her big, storm gray eyes glittering with amusement. Jenny shoved her best friend's shoulder with her own, her red ringlets splayed across her shoulders._

"_Lizzie Nicole Evans, you are full of it and you know it," Jenny stated primly, looking at her friend down her nose mockingly._

"_Oh the use of the full name, huh?" Lizzie teased, raising an eyebrow in mocking. "Well two can play that game Jennifer Marie Shepard."_

"_Hey, retract the cat claws you two," Apryl said, waving a white scarf between them, rolling her big, violet-hued eyes at her two friend. "Break it up before someone scratches an eye out."_

"_Funny Apryl Lynn Speech," Jenny said, scooping up some salsa on a tortilla chip and popping it into her mouth, enjoying the heat of the dip mixed with the saltiness of the chip._

"_Unwarranted," Apryl said, dipping a pretzel into the jar of peanut butter in front of her. "I love peanut butter."_

"_That's why I gave you your own jar," Lizzie retorted, laughing when Apryl stuck her tongue out at her. "Keep your tongue inside your mouth, you buffoon."_

"_Hey, hey, watch the name calling," Jenny refereed, holding her hands between her two friends._

"_So does BA Bobby know you're here?" Lizzie asked, tying the thick golden strands of her hair up into a high ponytail, turning her serious gaze onto her best friend. Jenny lowered her gaze, her pearly white teeth sinking into her lower lip as she remained silent. "Jen?"_

"_Jenny, what's going on?" Apryl asked, touching her friend's hand in concern. Jenny sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in between her pointer finger and her thumb tightly._

"_She's being controlled by her abusive fucking boyfriend," Lizzie said, a fire brewing in her eyes. Jenny's gaze flicked up to Lizzie's silently begging her not to say anything, while her left hand unconsciously drifted to her right hip, which held a fading, hand-shaped bruise._

"_Jenny, is this true?" Apryl asked, shock filling her pretty, tanned face. Jenny looked away, closing her eyes. "Jenny, you need to tell someone!"_

"_What does Jenny need to tell someone?"_

_All three girls looked up when they heard the deep, masculine voice in the doorway. And Jenny unintentionally flinched when she saw who stood there._

'_Bad-Ass' Bobby Austin leaned against the doorframe, his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest, wearing a red short-sleeved polo, and his lean legs were encased in dark wash jeans that were ripped at the knees. Thick, tan work boots were on his feet, and his thick brown locks were under his backwards-facing baseball cap._

"_Jen, what do you need to tell someone?" Bobby repeated, his brown eyes boring into hers._

"_That all this studying is killing me," Jenny said weakly, pushing her thick crimson curls behind her ear messily. "How did you know I was here Bobby?"_

"_Asked around," Bobby answered with careless shrug. "Come on Jen, we're leaving."_

"_But Bobby I'm spending the night," Jenny said, her eyebrows contracting as she stared at him, confused._

"_Not anymore you're not," he said, a fire starting to smolder in his mud-brown eyes. Jenny swallowed hard, and Lizzie couldn't stand it anymore._

"_Bobby, Jenny's dad went out of town, so she has to stay with me. No one is at her house," Lizzie said, watching as Bobby's eyes darkened._

"_Then she'll come back here. But right now, she's leaving with me," Bobby said, his tone saying that he was getting pissed. Quickly, Jenny stood, smoothing the ruffles in her denim skirt over her long, pale legs._

"_I'm coming Bobby," she said, locating her purple messenger bag on Lizzie's bed and slipping it over her shoulders, tugging on her white t-shirt to cover the bruise that threatened to be exposed when it rode up on her hips._

"_Jen…" Lizzie started, but Jenny shook her head furiously, her red hair flying._

"_I'll be back later Lizzie," Jenny said, her eyes pleading with her. "Bye Liz, Apryl."_

"_Bye Jenny," Apryl said softly, raising one hand in farewell. Lizzie glared at Bobby, murder in her normally-peaceful gray eyes._

"_If you don't bring her back in one piece, Bobby, you're going to regret it," Lizzie spat, her threat clear._

_But Bobby only laughed._

"_Whatever Lizzie," he said, grabbing Jenny's wrist tightly once she reached the doorway and dragging her down the stairs and out the front door. He tugged on her roughly, making her whimper in pain. When they reached his charcoal gray mustang, he shoved her against the passenger side door, anger flooding his eyes. "What the fuck was that Jen?"_

"_What was what Bobby?" Jenny asked, before realizing that had not been the right thing to say._

_She had no time to prepare for the stinging slap he threw at her. His open palm smacked her right cheek, forcing her head to the side with the force. She cried out in pain, bending over and holding both hands to her cheek, tears springing to the corners of her eyes._

_Before she knew it, Bobby was hugging her, shushing her quietly._

"_God baby I didn't mean it, you know I love you. I didn't want to hit you, I just got so angry because you weren't listening…" he trailed off as he rubbed her back, letting her sob into his chest. "Baby I didn't mean it, you know I didn't."_

"_I know Bobby," Jenny whispered into his shirt, not letting him see her face, or the now bright-red mark on her cheek. "I know you didn't."_

_Later that night, Jenny found solace in writing on her arm with a blade.

* * *

_

Jenny moaned, slipping out of the horrible memory and into the real world.

Once she got to the real world, though, she found she almost preferred the memory.

Her head was pounding, her throat was dry, and she felt sick to her stomach. But she felt warm, and it took her a second to realize that she was curled up on her couch, covered in the soft woolen blanket from her cabinet.

She sat up slowly, blinking her eyes open and rubbing at her temples, a rhythmic pounding filling the space between her ears. Looking around her office, she was relieved to find that she was alone.

She did not want to think about Jethro, not right now. Memories were too close to the surface, and she didn't want to think about everything. Instead standing up, she folded up the blanket and placed it back in the cabinet.

She walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face and brushing her teeth to get rid of the taste of sleep. She debated showering, but didn't have a change of clothes in the office, so she nixed that idea.

She had just walked back into her office when the door opened and in walked Jethro, take-out bags in hand. She watched him silently, her insides twisting.

"What are you doing?" she asked, finding her voice a touch hoarse. He spun around, eyes widening in surprise.

"What are you doing awake?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"I've been awake for all of five minutes," she replied, snapping slightly. "What's it matter to you?"

"Because I have to tell Ducky," Jethro said, pulling his phone out. Jenny glared and rolled her eyes while he had a quiet conversation on the phone. She walked over to her desk, pulling out a bottle of aspirin and taking two with a cup of water. "You want food?"

"Not hungry," she replied, opening up a case file on her desk.

"You shouldn't take those without food," he countered, referring to the aspirin. "C'mon Jen."

"Fine," she said, walking over to the couch and sitting down, taking a container of lo mien and opening it.

They ate in silence, neither willing to broach subjects they both knew they needed to. They cleaned up together, and that's when Jenny snapped, because she was so sick of fucking feeling.

He had just turned around after throwing out an empty container when she kissed him, desperate to forget everything. It hit him unexpectedly, and he froze. She pulled away for a second, looking at his face.

She pulled him closer, her hands fisting into his shirt and pressing him into her, his hands falling to her waist to steady himself. Her lips were on his in a millisecond, her kiss insistent and harsh. He was stunned; he couldn't respond at first.

Then she opened her mouth and all rational thought left his brain.

Suddenly he was kissing her with renewed force, and she was responding in kind. But these kisses were fueled by something that was new to them; it was fueled by pain and weakness and the simple knowledge that this was real and not some dream.

He fell back onto the couch, pulling her so that she straddled his lap. She rocked her hips into his, causing him to groan and break the kiss.

His eyes locked with hers, and then the hesitation filled him. Jenny could sense it, and she knew she needed to put a stop to it.

She grasped his hands, placing them on her torso.

"Put your hands on me Jethro," she whispered, her eyes full of a pain he didn't recognize and her voice full of a need he hadn't heard in a long time. "Make me forget."

He couldn't deny her a thing.

But he didn't know if his compliance would help, or hurt her further.

And he didn't know if he wanted to find out.

* * *

"_Love, hate, sex, pain, it's complicating me sometimes," –'Love, Hate, Sex, Pain', Godsmack_


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews on this story, and to JibbsGal1 for her awesome PMs-they make me smile :) This chapter is heavy, and very much angsty!Jenny, with only the barest trace of Tiva, because I needed something to lighten this.

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs.

"_If I'd only knew, the days were slipping past, that the good things never last, that you were crying,"-'Lost', Michael Bublé

* * *

_

She kicked him out of her office.

As soon as it was finished, she kicked him out. She stood on shaky legs, walking towards the refuge of her bathroom after grabbing her clothes silently.

"Please don't be here when I come out," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly before she slipped into the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind her. He sat on the couch, stunned.

This had not been a good idea. This had not been smart. He was an idiot.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, sighing heavily before standing and redressing, finding his scattered clothes. He cast one last look at the closed bathroom door before leaving, shutting the door loudly enough so that she would hear.

Jenny entered the bathroom, sinking down to the ground and starting to cry. She buried her face in her hands, her tears slipping through her fingers and hitting her knees.

This had been stupid. This had been selfish. She was an idiot.

She had used Jethro. He had been there, been supportive, and she'd used him.

She was turning into someone else, and she couldn't even recognize herself anymore.

All she wanted was to forget these horrible images, these horrible memories. She wanted to feel clean, to feel pure, to feel loved. Not controlled or smothered.

Because while Jethro had been perfect, it still wasn't his face that she saw. Jethro had whispered her name in her ear, in a voice that told her he thought that she was just close to his whole world; it still hadn't been his voice that she'd heard.

Even now, she could smell smoke. She hadn't touched a cigarette in twenty five years, and yet she could still smell the lighter as it lit up the end of the cigarette in her mouth, feel the burn as the acrid smoke filled her lungs, feel the nicotine rush to her head, smell the smoke as it drifted off the end and out of her mouth.

Smoke reminded her of him, and she hated it. A chill ran up her spine as she saw him, in her mind's eyes, offering her the box. Slipping the single cigarette out, placing it in her mouth, lighting the end with this Zippo. Watching-in delight-as she coughed, gagging as the smoke filled her throat.

She hit her head against the door, the pain bringing her out of the memory and back to reality. She needed to shower. She needed to wash away the memories.

She walked to the shower, turning the water on as hot as it could go. She placed her clothes on top of the toilet, chancing one look in the mirror.

She looked like hell; her eyes had dark circles underneath them, and the normally pretty green of her eyes was shadowed with pain and regret. She looked pale, so the shadows looked darker, more menacing. And her hair was ruffled from sex, the crimson strands tangled and out-of-sorts, looking very much like someone had run their hands through it and tugged.

Which, in essence, had happened.

She wiped at the tear tracks with clumsy fingers, brushing away the salt water as it coursed down her cheeks. She continued her examination, stopping short when she reached her hips.

Situated on each of her hips were faint, finger-shaped marks left when from when Jethro had grabbed her hips. The memory sent a rush of heat and shudder of reflexive pleasure through her before another much, much less pleasant memory through her.

"_You stood me up again Jen," Bobby said, glaring at her as she walked past him to her front door, sticking her key into the lock._

"_I didn't stand you up Bobby, I had to study," Jenny said, unlocking the door and pushing it open, turning to look at him. "I told you I have a huge physics test in two days."_

"_But I wanted to see you," Bobby argued, pushing off of his car and walking towards her._

"_Please Bobby, not now. I have to finish my homework. I don't have time for this," Jenny said, turning away. Bobby grabbed her hip, digging his fingers into her pale skin and spinning her back to face him, ignoring her cry of pain._

"_I said I wanted to see you. That means I want to see you," Bobby said quietly, his threat clear in his tone and his eyes as they bored into hers. "Is Daddy-dearest home?"_

"_Not until seven," Jenny whispered, tears pricking her eyes as he continued to grip her hip, his fingers bruising her skin._

"_Get in the house then," Bobby ordered, releasing her hip from his grasp and pushing her roughly towards the open door. Jenny stumbled, barely catching herself before she fell. Once they were in the house, Bobby shut and locked the door, pointing one finger up the stairs. "Bedroom."_

"_Please Bobby…" Jenny begged, reaching for him, but his gaze merely intensified. He grabbed her reaching hands with his, spinning her towards the stairs._

"_I said bedroom Jen. I mean it," he growled, shoving her towards the stairs._

_Tears streamed down Jenny's cheeks as she tripped up the stairs, feeling Bobby's unforgiving gaze boring into her back. She reached her bedroom, a place that was supposed to be her safe haven and yet was anything but, and opened the door. Bobby pushed her inside, closing the door behind him._

_He advanced towards her, hunger in his eyes. Jenny flinched when his hands touched her, his hand gripping the fresh bruises on her hips._

_His lips descended on hers, his kiss unwelcome, but Jenny didn't have the strength to push him away. He pressed her back so that they fell on the bed, his weight crushing her into the mattress. He trailed his lips down from hers to her neck, and she closed her eyes, praying for it to be over._

"_You're mine Jen. Only mine."_

It was her own sob that ripped her from the memory.

She choked on her tears, shuddering as she tried to push the memory away, desperate to get the feel of Bobby's lips and hands off of her. She wanted to remember Jethro's hands; hands of a man that did love her and did care about her. She wanted to remember that, not what she had just lived through again.

The running water behind her reminded her of the shower she'd wanted, and she sighed, running a hand through her hair before stepping under the spray. The steamy water hit her skin and stun, but she didn't lower the temperature. She just stood under the spray, the water surrounding her.

Eventually she slid to the floor, tucking her arms around her knees and bringing them to her chest. She laid her right cheek on her knees, water running into her eyes and her ears.

She sat there for a long time, struggling with herself over an issue she hadn't really faced in over two years.

The desire to cut hadn't gripped her in 750 days. Well, that wasn't the complete truth. There had been moments when the urge had been more than just a dull ache in the back of her brain. But there had been very few moments when it had been this bad.

Not since he had left for Mexico.

Did she really want to throw away all those days for only a few moments of what she truly wanted?

_It can be expected that you'll relapse. _

No, she couldn't think that way.

_Just once._

No!

_Come on Jenny._

I will not cut.

_Jenny._

I will not cut.

_Jenny._

I will not cut.

_Jenny!_

"I will not cut," Jenny whispered, continuing the mantra from her head as she gripped her head in both of her hands, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. "I will not cut."

She could do this. She could do this. She could do this.

"I can do this," she whispered, keeping her eyes closed as she continued to breathe deeply through her nose. "I can do this."

She stayed in the shower, under the becoming-cooler spray, for another twenty minutes, slowly getting a grip on the desire. It was still that, but it was weaker than before. Considering she'd been dealing with it for over two decades, she'd learned what worked and what didn't.

She grabbed a towel from the rack near the door and dried off, absorbing the water droplets from her skin. She hated the idea of redressing in the same clothes, but she didn't have a choice.

She dried her hair as best she could, eventually deciding to twist the damp strands into a low bun, secured at the base of her neck. Her make-up had washed away with the water, and she really had no desire to redo it. Inside merely putting lotion on her hands and rubbing it into her cheeks and forehead, she sighed, looking at her reflection.

If it hadn't been for the wrinkles lining her eyes and the circles underneath, she'd look exactly like she had when she was seventeen.

* * *

When she entered the cemetery less than an hour later after slipping out of NCIS headquarters unnoticed by Team Gibbs, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her trench coat. It had been a long time since she had visited the plot she was headed towards, but considering everything that had happened within the last twenty four hours, it seemed like a good idea.

She sat cross-legged on the grass in front of the headstone, her security detail respectfully turning their backs as they stood a few feet away. The dark marble headstone still looked the same- the words were the same and still made her heart tug as she read them.

This grave shouldn't be there.

"Hey Lizzie," Jenny said quietly, her palms resting on her knees as she looked at her best friend's name. "I know it's been a while. And I know that we always said there were no excuses between us, but this job is really starting to kill me Liz."

She spoke not expecting answers, because there was no one there to reply. But she still hated the silence. She hated the silence that should have been filled with her best friend's voice.

"I don't know if I can handle this anymore Liz," Jenny whispered, tears choking her voice. "It's getting so hard to say no."

Her hands began to tremble, and she blinked back the tears threatening to spill over.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurting so much Lizzie?" Jenny asked, wiping away the tears that slipped down her cheeks, past her defenses. "Why didn't you tell me how much you were crying? I would have…helped, or done something or…or kept you _alive_."

It still hurt, knowing that her best friend had been hurting right under her nose and Jenny hadn't noticed it. She should have been able to do something, to prevent the recoil that followed.

But she hadn't, and Lizzie was gone, and every day Jenny missed her more.

"You were supposed to grow old and get married, and have lots of kids," Jenny said, the smallest smile gracing her lips. "You were gonna marry some foreigner, remember? Some Italian or British guy. Someone who could get you out of DC and show you the world."

But that had never happened. And it never could.

"Neither of us got what we wanted," Jenny said softly, letting out a sigh. "I wish things were different Liz."

Because if things had been different, then she would have held on to happiness a long time ago, instead of running away.

* * *

Tony stared at the vending machine, unsure if he truly wanted to eat anything.

He was still reeling from the discoveries of today. They'd had cases that were worse then this, and he hadn't reacted this badly before.

Maybe it was because it was so personal. It wasn't often that Gibbs' past was brought into focus, and that made this case exceedingly rare. But Tony hated seeing his boss in pain, and he wanted to put Rudi Haas behind bars for a very long time for what he'd done to Maddie.

"Are you alright, Tony?" Ziva asked, leaning her back against the vending machine next to him, tilting her head at him. He turned around, pressing his back into the machine and sighing, scrubbing a hand down his face.

"I don't even know anymore Ziva," he replied, shaking his head before looking at her. "We don't normally work cases that are this personally involved."

"I do not care for how involving this is becoming either," Ziva said with a frown, running a hand through her hair.

"Is Jenny okay?" Tony asked, turning slightly to focus on her face. The left corner of her mouth twitched as her eyes darkened, the corners tightening. "Ziva?"

"This case is bringing up memories that are not pleasant," Ziva said, shaking her head.

"You didn't answer my question," Tony said, raising an eyebrow.

"That is because I do not know the answer," Ziva replied, letting out a sigh. Tony's eyes widened, his hazel eyes looking at her.

Maybe this case _was_ getting too personally close for comfort.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews-they mean a lot to me, I hope that all of you know that. This chapter isn't as terrible, but it is pretty OC-heavy, but they become very important. I know it seems like Jenny shifts rapidly in between this chapter and last, but it happens like this. It's like a light switch-it can change in a flash.

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs (some of which become very important after this chapter).

"_Stuck inside these walls, tell me there is hope for me? Is anybody out there listening?" –'I'm In Here', Sia

* * *

_

Jenny sat at Lizzie's grave for a long time, but soon enough the sky began to darken and the chill convinced her she should return to the agency. She was just standing up when a voice stopped her.

"Jenny? Jenny Shepard?"

She turned, eyes widening as she caught sight of a tall, beautiful woman she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Ashley Evans?" Jenny asked, shock filling her. She hadn't seen Lizzie's big sister in years, but she still looked great-even prettier than when they'd been in high school.

"Well, now it's Ashley Greene, but yes. Wow, Jenny, I haven't seen you in years!" Ashley said, stepping closer. Her long chestnut waves were secured in a low ponytail, and her big gray eyes, so similar to her little sister's, were rimmed with kohl, darkening them.

"It has been a very long time," Jenny said, letting the older woman wrap her into a tight hug. "You look great, Ash."

"Well, having four kids did nothing for my body, but yoga's helped," Ashley said with a shrug. Her engagement ring gleamed in the low light, and Jenny's heart tugged again.

"Four kids? Wow Ash, that's impressive," Jenny managed, offering her a smile that she was sure looked faked, but Ashley didn't notice.

"My husband wanted a lot of kids, and Mom always wanted grandkids," Ashley said, but stopped, pain clouding her pretty gray eyes. Jenny swallowed, the words hitting her full force. She needed to steer the conversation away from Lizzie.

"What are their names?" she asked, swallowing the pain.

"Beth is the oldest, she's sixteen," Ashley said, gratitude shining slightly in her eyes as she took over the new topic, but with a touch of sadness lingering in her eyes as she spoke of her eldest, obviously named after her sister. "Then Christian is twelve and he's the only boy, Lilly is nine, and Giselle is the baby, she's six."

"They sound beautiful," Jenny said, touching Ashley's hand gently. Ashley smiled, genuinely touching her eyes.

"They're my pride and joy," she replied, sighing contentedly. "What about you? I heard about your father-I'm so sorry, I know how important he was to you. Are you married? Have any kids?"

"I'm only married to my job," Jenny said, a sad smile on her face as she thought about both her father, and her lack of marriage and children. "Being the Director of an armed Federal Agency doesn't leave much time for a relationship. It wouldn't be fair to put a man through my hours."

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve to be happy honey," Ashley said gently, covering Jenny's hand with her own. Jenny smiled sadly, her green eyes veiled.

"I haven't felt happy in a long time Ash," Jenny admitted, sighing heavily. "It's been a long time since I could really smile."

"C'mon Jen," Ashley said, linking her arm through Jenny's after touching her sister's headstone briefly, brushing her fingers against the name engraved in the marble. "Come have dinner with my family and I."

"Oh Ashley, I wouldn't want to impose…" Jenny started, but Ashley stopped her, shaking her head.

"Don't even start. Steve will love to meet you, and so will the kids. And Mom is stopping by, and I know she's been meaning to get in touch with you for a long time," Ashley said, tugging Jenny along. "You can spare an hour or two, can't you?"

Jenny couldn't really bring herself to say no, so she found herself consenting. She dismissed her detail, telling them she would call when she needed to be picked up.

The drive to Ashley's home was filled with reminiscing and questions, none of which probed too deeply into Jenny's life for it to be uncomfortable. It felt nice to be with someone who knew everything about her past, and to not have to hide anything.

When they pulled up to the nice, suburban house, Jenny couldn't help but think about how this could have been her life. She could be pulling into a nice house like this, filled with nosy kids and messes that she'd have to clean up. Instead, she pulled up to an empty townhouse.

Stepping out of the black Ford Explorer, she smiled at the sight of kids in the kitchen. She followed Ashley into the house, slipping out of her copper high heels and leaving them by the door with the shoes left there by the kids, and Ashley slipped out of her blue flats, leaving them next to a pair of large black work boots.

"Babe, I'm home!" Ashley called, walking into the kitchen with Jenny. "Kids!"

"Hey Mom," a teenaged girl with big blue eyes and brunette hair said, smiling at her.

"Beth, this is Jenny, a friend of mine," Ashley said, smiling at her daughter. "We knew each other in high school."

"Hi," Beth said, waving at Jenny. "Is she staying for dinner Mom? I'll tell Dad we need to set an extra place."

"She is. Is your dad in the kitchen?" Ashley asked, looking at her daughter.

"He's cooking with Gizzie," Beth said, nodding. "Lil is doing her homework while she waits for dinner, and Christian is on the phone with Grandma. She got lost trying to find the house again."

"Is she not using the GPS we gave her for Christmas?" Ashley asked, shaking her head.

"Your mom never did like technology," Jenny pointed out with a soft laugh, which Ashley joined in.

"No, she hates it. She just got a cell phone last year," Ashley said, leading Jenny into the kitchen, following Beth. "Hey babe. This is Jenny, a friend from high school."

The man in the middle of the kitchen looked up, smiling. He had cobalt blue eyes and thick, messy black hair, and his face was kind. Standing up on a stool by the counter was a little girl with black curls piled up on the top of her head and secured with a blue bow that matched her eyes.

"Hey Jenny, I'm Steve," the man said, stepping forward to shake her hand with a warm smile on his face. "It's nice to finally meet you-I've heard a lot about you."

"Good things, I hope," Jenny said with a laugh, returning the hand shake. She turned to the girl on the stool, smiling. "And you must be Giselle, right?"

"Mm-hm," Giselle said with a nod, grinning so that Jenny could see the gap where her front teeth should be.

"Giselle baby, why don't you go with Beth and wash your hands?" Ashley said, smiling at her youngest. "You can talk to Miss Jenny while we eat, okay?"

"Okay Mommy," Giselle said, slipping off the stool and waving to Jenny before grabbing Beth's hand and tugging her out of the room. Ashley walked over and kissed her husband quickly, running her hand along his back before continuing towards the sink, running the water and washing her hands. Jenny had to stop the jealousy the suddenly gripped her; she didn't have a husband to come home to, and seeing her friend in this setting was making her turn a little green.

She pushed the thoughts away; she was just glad Ashley was happy, especially after everything with Lizzie. It was nice to see how well Ashley had settled in, and how happy she was with her family. That was what she needed to focus on.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Jenny asked, standing a little awkwardly as she watched the couple work efficiently together, Ashley straining the water that contained the now-cooked raviolis while Steve stirred the sauce.

"Oh, you're the guest-" Ashley started, but Jenny shook her head.

"I want to help," Jenny said, taking the time to wash her hands.

"Well, you can make the salad then," Ashley said, nudging Jenny slightly with her hip and winking at her. Jenny laughed, shaking her head as she pulled apart the lettuce leaves, placing them in the bowl. She was just adding sliced cherry tomatoes when the front door opened, and she turned to catch sight of Lizzie and Ashley's mother, Patricia Evans.

Patricia had aged gracefully; her brunette hair had turned to gray, but it still hung beautifully around her face, her wise, storm-gray eyes-the ones that had been inherited by both of her daughters-held a few more lines, as did the rest of her face, but she was still gorgeous as ever.

"Grandma!" Jenny watched as Patricia was attacked by kids; in addition to Beth and Giselle, there was another little girl, aged in between Beth and Giselle, with stick-straight black hair, who Jenny guessed was Lilly. A boy with chestnut curls, Christian, trailed behind, but as soon as Patricia saw him, she pulled him into a hug. Jenny smiled, watching for a few more moments before returning to the salad, adding the diced carrots to the lettuce and tomatoes before tossing it lightly with the tongs.

She washed her hands again, and she had just shut the water off when she heard Patricia's voice.

"I'd know that head of red curls anywhere. Is that really Jenny Shepard, standing in my daughter's kitchen?" Jenny turned, finding Patricia smiling warmly at her. "Well I'll be- it is. Hello Jenny."

"Hi Patricia," Jenny said, drying her hands on a dishtowel. Patricia stepped forward, enveloping Jenny in a warm hug, making her feel safe-something that rarely happened anymore.

"It's been a long time Jenny," Patricia whispered, hugging Jenny closer and kissing her hair, a motion that very much reminded Jenny of her father, and warmth that filled her was a comfort. "A very long time."

"I know," Jenny whispered, letting herself be hugged and enjoying the way the hug from the woman who had become her surrogate mother pushed the urge to cut even further away. "I know it's been a long time."

"You could've called," Patricia said softly, stepping back and brushing back a strand of Jenny's hair, tucking it behind her ear. "I would have helped."

"I needed to deal with it by myself. Turns out that didn't do much good," Jenny said, shrugging sheepishly. Patricia knew everything that had happened to her since Lizzie's death, mostly from updates from her father. "It's nice to see you Patricia. You look good."

"It was harder to get out of bed, after Arthur's death," Patricia said, referring to her husband and Ashley and Lizzie's father. "But having Ashley and her family close by has helped. What about you, Jenny? I heard about your father. I'm so sorry."

"It was difficult, especially after…" Jenny said, trailing off, knowing that Patricia would understand her meaning. "But it's in the past now."

"It will never be in the past, sweetheart," Patricia said, touching her cheek. "If anyone knows that, it's me. But what about a family?"

"Married to my job," Jenny replied with a shrug. Patricia looked at her intently, her gray eyes studying her.

"You always were ambitious," Patricia commented, the smallest smile gracing her face. "But I always thought that you wanted to get married."

"And I did," Jenny said, shrugging again. "It just didn't fit into my five point plan."

"It, or him?" Patricia asked, raising her eyebrow, having caught Jenny's slight pause. "Does he know how you feel? It can make a world of difference Jenny."

"Not now, please," Jenny said, shaking her head. Patricia's eyes widened and a shadow crossed her face before she nodded, touching Jenny's cheek again. "Thank you, Patricia."

"Grandma, are you coming?" Beth asked, coming in with a smile on her face. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Its fine, Beth dear. Jenny and I were just catching up," Patricia said, turning to her granddaughter with a smile. "Where am I sitting tonight?"

"Lil and Gizzie flipped a coin, and so tonight you're in between Lil and Mom," Beth said, leading Jenny and Patricia into the dining room. "And Jenny, you're in between Mom and me. I hope that's alright."

"Oh, it's fine Beth," Jenny said, smiling at the teenager. She took her seat next to Ashley, seated across from Christian, with Beth on her right side, at the head of the table.

"Lilly, Christian, this is my friend Jenny, from high school," Ashley said, looking at her two middle children. "She was best friends with your Aunt Lizzie. They were practically sisters."

"You knew Aunt Lizzie?" Lilly asked, her gray eyes wide as she looked at her, twirling a strand of black hair around her pointer finger. Jenny nodded, an almost-sad smile on her face. "Lucky!"

"I'm very lucky," Jenny murmured, nodding again. "So, what are you studying in school Beth? Have you given any thoughts to college?"

"I'm looking at Georgetown," Beth said, cutting her raviolis. "I'm thinking about going into politics."

"Really?" Jenny asked, her interest spiking. "I graduated from Georgetown. It's a great school. What kind of politics are you looking at?"

"I'm thinking about trying to get into the Senate," Beth said, filling her glass up with water.

"I work with a lot of senators," Jenny said, moving her food around on her plate.

"Really?" Beth asked, turning towards her slightly. "What do you do?"

"I'm the Director of NCIS," Jenny said, watching as confusion swept over Beth's face. "Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

"Oh, so it's like the FBI," Beth said, understanding filling her. Jenny laughed, nodding.

"Yes, it's kind of like the FBI," Jenny said, her mind flashing to Jethro, and what he would have said if he'd heard Beth say that.

"Do you work a lot?" Christian asked, looking at her curiously from across the table. Jenny swallowed the mouthful of food that she had, nodding.

"Yes, I do work a lot," she answered, swirling her water around in her glass.

"Do you have any kids Miss Jenny?" Giselle asked, her little kid voice carrying a slight lisp from her missing front teeth.

"No, I don't Giselle," Jenny said, sighing. "I just didn't have the time."

"But I thought everyone was a mommy," Giselle said, frowning. "Don't you have someone like my mommy has my daddy?"

"No, I don't have someone like your daddy," Jenny replied, shaking her head slightly, tucking her red hair behind her ear.

"You didn't ever fall in love? Like a princess?" Giselle persisted, her big blue eyes wide.

"I fell in love once, but I made a silly choice," Jenny said, shrugging her shoulders. "So he doesn't really know that I love him."

"You should tell him," Giselle said solemnly, nodding her head, her ebony curls bouncing on the top of her head. "He wants to know."

"How do you know silly?" Ashley asked, steering the conversation away from the topic, having noticed Jenny's discomfort. "How was work Steve?"

"Oh, just your average, 'I forgot my math homework at home' and 'my calculator is in my locker'," Steve said, shaking his head. Jenny's eyebrows contracted, and he filled her in when he noticed. "I'm a high school math teacher. I teach Geometry."

"Daddy's really smart," Lilly said, nodding as she giggled when her dad tickled her. "Stop it Daddy!"

Jenny watched the interaction, smiling. Ashley noticed, slipping her hand over hers to catch her attention. Jenny looked at her, leaning closer.

"I'm sorry, about Giselle," Ashley said, worry creasing her forehead. "She's got this obsession with fairytales and happily-ever-after, and she doesn't really understand that real life is different than the princess stories she reads."

"Its fine Ash," Jenny reassured her, shaking her head. "She's harmless, and absolutely adorable."

"Thanks," Ashley said, a faint blush crossing her cheeks. Jenny smiled, squeezing her friend's hand before returning to the conversation that had started about the meal. She let herself enjoy the clatter and noisiness that dinner was-normally, dinner was something that had been left by Noemi, and she ate it heated up in her study, while she did work.

After they ate, she, Ashley, and Patricia wound up in the kitchen, doing the dishes, while the kids did their homework and Steve went into the study to grade a set of tests. Patricia washed, Jenny dried, and Ashley put them away. Their system was perfect; it allowed them to talk and get work done.

"Have we ever met this man you love, Jenny?" Ashley asked, her voice quiet so that it wouldn't carry. "Please, please tell me it isn't Bobby."

"It isn't Bobby," Jenny said, shaking her head forcefully. "I could never have loved Bobby."

"Jenny, you protected what he did to you for almost two years," Patricia said, her gray eyes soft but her tone firm. "You loved him on some level."

"Whatever I felt for him, I don't think you can classify it as love," Jenny said softly, shrugging her shoulders slightly. She couldn't have loved Bobby- she may have been infatuated with him, especially in the beginning, but towards the end, she hadn't felt anything but hatred-and fear-for him. "I only stayed with him in the end because I felt like if I left, he'd hurt me more."

"I still can't believe what he put you through," Ashley said, anger filling her tone. "Almost two years of hell Jen!"

"Me?" Jenny asked, shaking her head. "No, he put Lizzie through far worse."

"Lizzie took what he did and multiplied it," Patricia said, sadness heavy in her voice. "It never would have spun out of control the way it did if she'd gotten help. If only I'd gotten her help."

"Mom, please don't blame yourself," Ashley said, shaking her head. "We've all beat ourselves up too many times over the years."

"Lizzie committed suicide in my house!" Patricia said, guilt filling her eyes. "Under my roof! How can I not blame myself? I couldn't keep my own daughter safe from herself!"

"Lizzie committed suicide because she didn't tell anyone how she was feeling," Jenny said, touching Patricia's arm softly. "No one could have stopped her, because she didn't tell anyone she was so sad."

"I still should have known," Patricia said, shaking her head. "She was carrying the bastard's child because of what he did to her!"

"Something he doesn't know, even to this day," Jenny said softly, the weight of the memories pressing against her defenses starting to become too much. "Bobby was a bastard, Patricia. If anyone is truly to blame for what Lizzie did to herself for the last few weeks of her life, and her suicide, it's him. Not you."

"All you did was love her, Mom," Ashley said, coming to touch her mom's shoulder. "If anything, you kept her alive longer."

"She was supposed to have everything," Patricia said, tears pricking her eyes. "It wasn't supposed to end like this."

"Nothing happened like we planned Mom," Ashley said, emotion heavy in her tone and her eyes. "Lizzie was supposed to get married, raise a family, have a life. But we can't change what she did or what happened. We learned that a long time ago."

The three women stood in the kitchen for a long time, desperately wishing that things could have been different. But they couldn't change the past, as each of them had learned in a different way, but all connected through one hurting girl's suicide over twenty years ago.

Sighing, Jenny rubbed her temples, feeling a headache starting to grow. She should stop at the agency before she went home-she had a stack of files she needed to read and sign off on.

"I should be going," she said softly, chancing a glance at the clock, surprised to find it was already eight o'clock.

"Thank you so much for coming Jenny," Ashley said, wrapping her into a hug that Jenny gladly returned. "Let me give you my number-I'd really like to get together again. Maybe grab coffee sometime?"

"I'd love that," Jenny said, exchanging numbers with Ashley before hugging her again. "I'll just call my detail, have them come pick me up."

"Let me drive you home," Patricia said, touching her hand when Jenny reached for her Blackberry. "I'd like the chance to talk to you."

"Of course-just let me tell them that I'll be getting home safely," Jenny said, pulling her phone out, surprised to find a missed call from Jethro. She'd deal with that later. Much later.

"Kids, Grandma and Jenny are leaving!" Ashley called, and seconds later, all four children were in the hallway, eager for a chance to say goodbye.

"Bye Miss Jenny," Giselle said, hugging her leg tightly. "Will you come back sometime?"

"I'd love to," Jenny said, patting the little girl's hair, smiling down at her. Giselle grinned in return, her gaped teeth the center focus, before hopping over to her grandma. Beth reached Jenny next, offering her a hand to shake.

"It was really nice to meet you, Jenny," she said, shyly tucking a strand of brunette hair behind her ear. "If you have the chance, I'd really like to hear more about Georgetown."

"Of course, I'd love to tell you more," Jenny said, smiling at the teenager. "Have your mom give me a call when you'd like to talk."

"Thanks," Beth said, smiling at her again before going over to her grandmother, becoming enveloped in a hug. Lilly sent her a shy smile, curling her fingers in a wave towards Jenny, which she returned. Christian nodded to her, his lips curling into a slight smile before he kissed his grandmother's cheek and then headed for the stairs, going back upstairs.

Only Steve, Ashley, Patricia, and herself remained by the door, and after Jenny had slipped into her heels and her coat, she turned towards them. Steve stepped forward, offering her his hand. She shook it warmly for a moment before letting him hug her, not feeling awkward in the slightest. Next came Ashley, who wrapped her in another tight hug.

"Please keep in contact Jenny," Ashley whispered, her nose buried in Jenny's hair. "I don't want to lose you too."

"I promise I'll keep in touch," Jenny replied softly, squeezing Ashley closer for a moment before releasing her. "You won't get rid of me that easily."

"Never," Ashley replied, a smile returning to her face. "Bye Mom, I'll see you next Monday. You're taking Giselle to her ballet lesson, remember?"

"Yes sweetheart, I remember," Patricia said, stepping forward to wrap her daughter in a hug. "You worry too much."

"So I've been told," Ashley said, rolling her eyes. "Don't get lost going to Jenny's."

"I have her in the car with me, Ashley dear," Patricia said, rolling her eyes at her daughter. "I don't think I'll be getting lost anytime soon."

"Famous last words," Ashley replied, winking at Jenny. Jenny rolled her eyes as she followed Patricia out of the house, Ashley standing in the doorway as she watched them descend the stairs to the driveway. "Drive safe!"

"Goodbye Ashley!" Jenny and Patricia both called towards the door, rolling their eyes simultaneously. They reached Patricia's silver sedan and Jenny slid into the passenger side while Patricia climbed in on the driver side. Their silence wasn't uncomfortable; they were both people that didn't mind silence, and for that, Jenny was more grateful than ever. Her defenses were weak, and the urges were coming back, full force.

As Patricia started the car, Jenny could only pray that the conversation didn't stray into territory she hadn't thought about in a very, very long time.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews-they really are incredibly important to me, and I'm so glad the OCs were so well received last chapter. I fully intended on updating yesterday, but then my boyfriend decided he wanted to claim my attention, and so we watched 'Paranormal Activity 2', in his basement, alone, in the dark. I advise against that, to anyone that has not seen it.

I cried, writing this chapter. You have no idea how true Jenny's emotions are. Hearing them for the first time from your best friend…it's like smashing into a brick wall.

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs.

"_I've been looking everyday for a way past this wall that's in front of my face. I'm on hands and knees searching for my faith," –'Desperate', Fireflight

* * *

_

Patricia was silent for the first few minutes of the ride, and Jenny relaxed into the seat, sighing. Remembering she needed to go back to the agency she straightened, turning slightly towards the older woman.

"Patricia, I need to go back to the agency to pick a few things up. You can just drop me off there, if you'd like," Jenny said, her soft voice permeating the silence that had descended around them. Patricia turned her head slightly, frown lines creasing her kind face.

"You really have to do more work?" she asked, confusion clear in her voice. Jenny sighed, rubbing at her temples again.

"I guess I can skip one night. I really don't think I can concentrate tonight anyway," Jenny said with a gentle smile, shrugging her shoulders.

"Good," Patricia replied, nodding with an almost-triumphant smile. "Now why would you be taking work home? Don't you do enough of it during the day?"

"A director's job is never done, really. And I didn't get much work done today, to be completely honest," she answered softly, her thoughts drifting to Maddie Tyler. "We have a new case and…the similarities between Lizzie and this girl…they're bringing up memories I haven't relived in a very long time Patricia. A very, very long time."

"What kind of similarities?" Patricia asked sharply, turning her gray eyes on Jenny momentarily before returning them to the road. "Jenny?"

"A young girl came to the agency because she had a personal connection to the past of the Jeth-of an agent," Jenny started, cursing herself for her slip that she knew Patricia had caught. "She was raped by a Marine, and now she's pregnant."

"Jenny…"

"That's not all," Jenny interrupted, swallowing hard before she continued, closing her eyes. "She's cutting. And not just cutting, but killing herself. I saw the cuts, Patricia. They're like mine were-deep, dangerously deep. She's out of control and…I don't know if I have the ability to stop her."

"You need to find a way to stop her, Jenny," Patricia said softly, so softly that at first Jenny almost didn't hear her. "You cannot let another mother go through what I have. You cannot subject another human being to the kind of torture I have gone through for the past twenty four years."

"I want to I just…" Jenny trailed off, swallowing against the emotion building in her throat, tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she closed her eyes to stop them, trying to bring up some semblance of composure. "Patricia it's like looking back in time. Seeing those cuts on her arms were like seeing them on mine! I haven't felt the urge this badly in two years!"

"Two years!" Patricia said, turning her alarmed gaze on Jenny, who took an interest in her shoes. "Jenny, two years? You cut as recently as two years ago? Why on earth-"

"Because he left me," Jenny whispered hoarsely, her voice a broken sob as the memory burst forth, sitting on the forefront of her mind, playing over and over and over again. "Because he didn't remember, and he left, and I was alone, all over again. Because no one cared and he was gone and I was so empty inside. Because I just wanted to feel again. Because I wanted to feel like I had when I was with him, and I was happy, and I felt like someone cared, but then he was gone, and he didn't care. Because I just couldn't do it anymore. Because I just couldn't pretend like I was fine and everything was just perfect and I was just so god damn happy. Because I was so sick of pretending. Because I hated myself."

Silence followed her outburst. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she beat herself up for the thousandth time for letting him walk away- for not telling him, for letting herself get caught up in a web of lies that only hurt her in the end. For letting herself fall back into the trap that cutting helped her, instead of slowly killing her.

For letting herself listen to the velveteen voice that told her that slitting her wrists was the only way out.

"It made me feel alive for the first time," Jenny admitted in a whisper, looking out the window, her eyes darting side to side as they gazed at the buildings passing by them. "It made me feel like I was more than just a shell of a human being. It showed me that I could feel and that wasn't just this numb body with no emotions and no feelings."

It sounded horrible, saying it aloud. But when you were hurting so much that you couldn't even feel the pain anymore, it truly felt like your only way out. And Jenny hated herself for what she had done to her body, but the high, the rush that told her that her heart was still beating and she still had a pulse, was worth it, in a sick and twisted way.

"Why would you put your body through that torture Jenny?" Patricia asked, her hands gripping the wheel tightly but her voice eerily calm. "Why would you go through that all again?"

"This isn't the first time I've slipped, Patricia," Jenny said softly, still looking out the window. "God, this isn't even close to the first time I've slipped since that hospital Dad sent me to."

"But why Jenny?" Patricia whispered, shaking her head. "Why?"

"My father killed himself," Jenny said, starting her list. "I left the man I loved more than I ever thought I could another man after what Bobby did to me. I was forced to watch children murdered in Egypt for my job, and I couldn't stop it. I took a job where I was my ex-lover's superior, and I had to tell him I couldn't see him off of the job because I was so damn insecure about my position. I got back with said lover after I was kidnapped, then he gets fucking amnesia, doesn't remember our new relationship, and he flees to Mexico. I've had plenty of reasons to relapse. My life hasn't been easy since my dad died."

"You had support Jenny," Patricia said, her voice almost a plea. "You could have come to us."

"Do you know how ashamed I was?" Jenny asked, tears pricking her eyes again as she shook her head, dismay clear in her features. "I couldn't even honor my father's last wish. I was a disgrace, I was a mess; I just wanted my daddy again. And suddenly he wasn't there and everyone I'd ever trusted was slipping away…I was so lost."

"I wish I'd know," Patricia said, suddenly berating _herself_. "I can't keep my own daughter safe."

"Patricia, what Lizzie did was not your fault," Jenny said, shaking her head firmly, turning her intense green eyes on the older woman.

"I wasn't talking about Lizzie Jenny," Patricia said, shaking her head. "I was talking about you. Jenny, you are, in essence, my daughter. After your mother died when you were a toddler, I stepped in. To lose Lizzie, then almost lose Ashley in a car accident four years later, and now to hear that you've been cutting again…Jenny I can't lose all of my daughters!"

Jenny was touched. Patricia really thought of her as a daughter? She thought of her as a mother-figure, but to hear the sentiment returned…it really touched her.

"You have no idea how hard it is to say no, Patricia," Jenny whispered hoarsely, shaking her head. She tucked her crimson curls behind her ears, sighing. "It's like pushing a boulder up a hill. I've already said no once today. I honestly don't know if I have the strength to do it again."

"Do you want me to stay?" Patricia asked, and Jenny looked at her, furrowing her eyebrows. Would this woman really do this? Would she really stay the night with her, just so that she wouldn't cut?

"Patricia, you don't-"

"Jenny, if it keeps you safe another night, I'll do anything," Patricia said, seriousness reflecting in her eyes.

"As much as that means to me, no, you don't have to stay," Jenny said softly, touching the older woman's hand gently, squeezing her fingers. "I have to do this by myself. I need to know that I can do this alone."

"Call me, Jenny, at any time," Patricia said, shooting her a look. "I'm not kidding. Even if it is one thirty in the morning, you pick that phone up and call me. I will be here for you, every hour of the day."

"You have no idea how much that means to me," Jenny said, tears glistening in her eyes. "Patricia, that's more than I've had in a very long time."

"I will be here, Jenny," Patricia vowed, her gray eyes set and firm, determination brewing in the depths. "I will keep you safe, no matter where that journey takes us."

"It may go through Hell and back," Jenny murmured, sighing again. "It won't be a walk in the park, by any means."

"I never liked the park," Patricia said simply, shrugging slightly. And Jenny only smiled, because she hadn't had this kind of support since before her father's death.

And she needed it, desperately.

"Jenny, who is this agent you slipped up about earlier?" Patricia said, turning the conversation away from what she believed to be the tougher subjects. Only Jenny would take their previous discussion over Jethro any day of the week. "Jenny, tell me. Is he this ex-lover you were talking about? The one you left?"

"One and the same," she said softly, puffing out a breath. "Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

"Well that's a name if I've ever heard one," Patricia said, raising an eyebrow. "And you call him Jethro?"

"Either that or just 'Gibbs'," Jenny said, shrugging.

"Where'd you meet him?" Patricia asked, studying Jenny out of the corner of her eye. Jenny's arms were folded over her chest and there was a tension about her that Patricia just couldn't understand.

"I was his Probie at the agency about nine years ago," Jenny said, remembrance crossing her face. "We were partners for about eight months when we were sent to Europe on an intense undercover operation that was spread over a year and a half. We became lovers in Paris, and I managed to fall completely head over heels for him. He was everything I could have asked for and more."

Patricia watched Jenny talk about Jethro and she tilted her head, sighing. It was more than obviously that Jenny had been-and still was-very much in love with this man. And after the hell that Bobby had put her through, the fact that Jenny had let herself love this man was a miracle in itself. But something had gone wrong, that much was obvious.

"But there was always this darkness about him that I just couldn't understand, and after Bobby, well…I couldn't handle darkness. So I ran, as far away as possible," Jenny's voice dropped in volume, and tears filled her voice. "I left him with a letter in the pocket of my coat on a plane that was set to take us back to the States. I took a job in the London office where I was then transferred to Spain and then to Cairo," here she shuddered, and Patricia frowned, but let her continue without pause, "And then I became Assistant Director, and now I'm Director. But it wasn't worth leaving him."

Jenny moped at her tears, shaking her head.

"His 'darkness' was a wife and daughter that had been killed when he was serving with the Marines in Kuwait," Jenny said, a bitter edge coming into her voice. "My judgment was so clouded from what Bobby had done to me I took everything to the extreme. If I hadn't left…if I hadn't left things would have been so different."

"Would you have married him?" Patricia asked, her voice as gentle as she could make it. Jenny sighed, rubbing her eyes.

"The man had two failed marriages at that point, and had a habit of leaving things out when he spoke," Jenny replied, shrugging her shoulders. "But somehow I managed to fall for him. I think I would have, had he asked. Especially if he had told me about Shannon and Kelly. But that's in the past, and what I did today completely shattered any hope I had of being with him ever again."

"What did you do today?" Patricia asked, obvious confusion in her voice. Jenny cringed, shame filling her expression.

"I used him, in the worst way possible," she whispered, shaking her head. "Do you remember one of the times when my dad was out of time and I was staying with you, and Apryl and I were with Lizzie when Bobby came and took me away then brought me back?"

"And he slapped you in the middle of the driveway?" Patricia asked, anger filling her voice as she gripped the steering wheel harder, her knuckles turning white.

"Yes," Jenny whispered, tears staining her voice. "I…I fainted, and I remember that, in a dream and I just wanted to forget and…"

"Oh Jenny," Patricia said, turning to look at her. "Oh sweetheart did you…"

"I know I shouldn't have," Jenny said, dismay filling her features. "I just…I didn't think it through. And then…I told him to leave. I couldn't even look at him. He must hate me."

"Jenny, if he is half the man I think he is he won't hate you," Patricia said, shaking her head as she looked at Jenny. "But you need to talk to him. I'm sure that if you tell him how you feel then…"

"Patricia, Jethro doesn't do 'feelings'," Jenny said, shaking her head as a small smile graced her face. "But I should probably talk to him."

"Please do," Patricia urged, touching Jenny's hand. "It's eating you up inside."

"Patricia, there are so many things eating me up I'm surprised I'm still alive," Jenny said, shaking her head slightly. "It's just a left up here."

"Thank you dear, I would have missed that," Patricia said, taking the turn. She found Jenny's house easily, parking her car in the driveway, turning to look at the redhead. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"I really appreciate the offer Patricia but I'm just going to get in bed," Jenny said, shaking her head. "It isn't often I have the opportunity to be in bed before midnight. I'm going to take full advantage."

"Call me when you have some free time," Patricia said, leaning forward to wrap Jenny in a tight hug. "I'd really like to spend more time with you Jenny."

"And I would love to see you more, Patricia," Jenny said as she hugged the older woman back, sighing. "I'll see if I can be free this weekend, maybe we could do lunch."

"That sounds wonderful dear," Patricia said, pulling back and cupping Jenny's cheek, studying her. "You need to eat more."

"Yes Mom," Jenny teased, laughing lightly. "I'll see you soon Patricia."

"Yes you will," Patricia said, nodding as Jenny stepped out of the car, stretching her back. "Goodbye Jenny!"

"Goodbye Patricia!" Jenny said, waving as the car pulled out of the driveway. She sighed, collecting.

She could this. She had to.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Evelyn, it has been 200 days. 200 days. You have no idea how proud I am of you, and how much I love you.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_I had hoped you'd see my face, and that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over," –'Someone Like You (Live Acoustic)", Adele [I suggest watching the video for this-she performs live in her home and talks in the beginning about what the song is about. It's the most beautiful, powerful thing I have ever heard or seen. Brought tears to my eyes the first time I saw it.]

* * *

_

He was standing in the darkness of her front stoop.

She'd known he was there the moment Patricia had pulled on to her street; she'd recognized the old pick-up truck parked at the end of the street, across from her townhouse. She hadn't alerted the older woman about it because to be honest, she didn't know what it meant or what he wanted.

Sighing, she watched Patricia's car round the corner of the street and then took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever was to come. She turned, walking slowly towards her front door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, pulling her key out of her purse and slipping it into the lock, turning it easily. She pushed open the door slightly, her hand on the knob as she turned towards him.

He'd changed from what he'd been wearing at work. Instead of the slacks, polo, and jacket he'd had on earlier, he now had on stonewashed jeans and a tight black t-shirt with a black zip-up hoodie. Her breath caught slightly in her throat and she swallowed hard, trying to stop her racing heart.

"Gonna let me in?" he merely asked in reply, nodding towards the door. Jenny sighed, her pounding headache filling her ears as she pushed the door open completely, stepping into the darkened hallway. Jethro slipped in behind her, watching her close and relock the door after flipping on a light switch. She hung her coat on the hook and tossed her keys into the bowl on the side table, tidying up the mail that had been hastily stacked next to the bowl this morning.

She was doing everything possible to keep her mind focused. Because the second it wandered, it strayed into places she didn't want to go. She sighed, straightening up and turning towards him, folding her arms over her chest.

"What do you want?" she asked again, her eyes focused on his chest and not his face, because she couldn't stand to see the hate that must be lingering in it. He remained silent, merely standing in her front hallway.

"There a reason you won't look me in the eyes Jen?" he asked, his hands slipping into the pockets on his hoodie. She hid her reaction, her eyes not moving from his chest. "Jen?"

"Jethro, would you just say what you need to and then leave, please?" Jenny asked, exasperated. She slid her eyes up to his face momentarily but drew them away just as quickly, unable to remain.

"Jen, why are you acting like you expect me to say I hate you or something?" Jethro asked, obvious confusion in his voice. What she wasn't expecting, though, was the undercurrent of pain that swept through his low voice, cutting her to the core.

"Because you should," she whispered, shaking her head. "Why don't you?"

"Because I can't hate you, Jen," Jethro replied with a sigh, one hand slipping out of his pocket to scrub down his face, exhaustion filling his voice. "I tried, believe me, to hate you after you left but…I just couldn't do it."

"I hated myself enough for the both of us," Jenny replied with a harsh laugh, shaking her head. She turned and headed for the study, feeling him follow close behind her. She headed straight for the liquor cabinet, but only poured a glass for him.

She'd learned a long time ago that when she added bourbon into an equation that involved resisting the urge to cut, it subtracted any chance she had of winning the fight. And tonight, she needed as clear a head as possible.

She handed him the tumbler, slipping into one of the chairs by the fire place afterward, tucking her knees up under her chin.

She'd spent so many nights in here with her father. Sometimes, it felt like this was the only room in the house that held any good memories.

_Her father sat in his leather chair behind the desk, a glass of scotch on the desk in front of him as he read the paper in front of him. She leaned against the doorframe, merely watching him._

_Being eighteen, most people thought that teenage girls hated their parents. But for Jenny, her father was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. She closed her eyes, sighing quietly._

_She'd just come back from visiting Lizzie's grave. The headstone had finally arrived, and reading the words sent a stake through her heart. _

_It was August; Jenny only had another week before she left for Georgetown University. But she didn't feel happy-instead, the depression she was fighting against was tearing her apart._

_Lizzie was supposed to join her. She and her best friend were supposed to go to college together, room together, have the time of their lives together. Instead, her best friend was six feet under the ground and Jenny felt close to joining her, some days._

"_Jenny-bear, you're brooding again," her father called softly, pulling her out of her thoughts. He'd looked up from his paper, a sad smile on his face. "How was visiting Lizzie?"_

"_The headstone came," Jenny replied softly, leaning her head against the wood of the doorframe._

"_I'm sorry, sweetheart," her father said, his green eyes soft. She sighed, shrugging her shoulders._

"_I'm the one who decided to go," she said, stepping into the warm room and sinking into a chair opposite the desk, resting her head against the leather. "I just miss her."_

"_I know you do," Jasper said, setting the paper down and looking at her. "I talked to the DA this morning."_

"_Oh?" Jenny asked, her curiosity sparked._

"_Bobby's going to prison for twenty five years," her father replied, watching as relief bloomed on his daughter's face. "You won't have to worry about him ever again Jenny."_

_And those were the best words Jenny had ever heard._

"Jenny?"

She was pulled from the memory by Jethro's voice, concern laced into his tone. She sighed, rubbing again at her temples.

"Jenny? You okay?" he asked, a frown slipping on to his face. "You seem out of it."

"I'm fine," Jenny said, the lie slipping through her teeth easily.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, his tone taking on an almost hesitant quality. "This afternoon? I came to give you a report and Cynthia said you were gone."

"I saw a friend," Jenny said, skipping over the cemetery part. There was no need to get into details that he didn't need to know. "Had dinner with them and their family."

"The same friend who drove you home?" Jethro asked, his eyes darkening slightly as he stepped closer, his proximity to the chair Jenny was in making her breath catch.

"The friend who drove me home is not the same friend who I ran into, if you really must know," Jenny replied, her tone hardening as a glare entered her eyes. "She's their mother."

"Do I know this friend?" Jethro asked, backing off when Jenny's hostility washed over him.

"Contrary to your belief, Jethro, you really don't know everything about me," Jenny answered, her tone biting. Jethro held in the wince, Ducky's words washing over him again. "Now, do you want something, or are you just going to harass me more?"

"Jen, I just came to see if…we were…okay," Jethro said, faltering slightly. Jenny's guard dropped slightly-it was, after all, her fault that they were in this situation. She ran a hand through her messy crimson curls, pinching the bridge of her nose tightly between her pointer finger and her thumb.

"Jethro, I'm sorry, about earlier," Jenny said softly, puffing out a deep breath and raising her eyes to meet his briefly. "It shouldn't have happened."

"You know how I feel about apologies, Jen," Jethro replied quietly, letting out a heavy sigh. "Can you tell me why, Jenny? Why did it happen?"

"Because for once, I just wanted things to be the way they should have," Jenny said, her voice so soft it was barely audible. Jethro strained to hear it, wondering if it could really be true. And it was.

Ducky had been right.

"Why didn't you tell me, Jenny?" he asked, pain bleeding through his tough exterior to shine through in his eyes and his voice. Suddenly, he was desperate to know.

"Tell you what?" she asked, her heart picking up speed as his question washed over her. Why was this happening now? Why was this happening to her at the moment when she couldn't handle it? When she'd imagined him finding out, it generally involved a lot of bourbon and sex. Not a goddamn interrogation in her study on a night where she had to fight against her demons.

"Don't play dumb, Jen," Jethro said, anger suddenly rearing its head as his cobalt eyes flashed in her direction. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Why the hell are you bringing this up _right now_?" she cried, shaking her head. "Why on earth are you doing this at this very moment?"

"Because I want to know!" he replied, his volume rising as his anger reached a fever pitch. "How the hell could you keep that from me Jen?"

"Because you didn't remember!" she yelled, pushing herself out of the chair and throwing her arms in the air. How dare he get upset! He had no right to yell at her for keeping something from him! Look at what he'd kept from her! "Because I'd just found out you had been lying to me!"

"I never lied to you," Jethro said, suddenly on the defense.

"You certainly didn't tell me the whole truth," Jenny said, suddenly remembering back to when they'd had this conversation the first time. She didn't think this one was going to end any differently, to be completely honest. "How could you keep a family from me Jethro? How could you have left that out?"

"Not the same thing," Jethro said, shaking his head, but his blue eyes cooled, no longer heated with anger.

"To me, Jethro, it is. Did I really mean that little to you, that you couldn't find it within yourself to tell me?" Jenny asked, shaking her head. "I had no idea what you were hiding from me. How could I have? You never opened up, told me anything."

"You didn't either Jen!" Jethro said, his eyes flashing with renewed passion. His words carried a bite that Jenny knew she deserved. "Even now you aren't telling me everything. Who's Lizzie? Bobby? Your friend that dropped you off, or the one you met? Where'd you met this friend? Did screwing me in your office affect some secret relationship you've got going on? You needed to tell him about it? That all I am to you Jen? Just someone you can use whenever you want?"

His accusations stung more than she thought they would. He had every right to be angry. But it still hurt to hear him put things into words.

"You're digging into things that are better left untouched," she whispered, looking away from him, unable to see his anger and his hurt. "And no, I am not in a relationship. I can't believe you'd even think that. What kind of person do you think I am?

"At this point Jen, I don't even think I know you anymore," Jethro said, his words a slap in the face. She held in the wince, the urge pressing forth with renewed strength. She couldn't argue with his reasoning; she wasn't the same person he knew. Her past was coming to the surface, and she didn't know if even the famous Leroy Jethro Gibbs could handle the crap that she'd lived through.

She didn't know if she wanted his help at this point anyway, to be completely honest.

"Then just leave," she whispered, shaking her head to keep the tears a bay. "Just go away. I don't want you here, and you don't want to be here. Just go away."

All she could hear was the door slamming as he made his way out.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews-they mean the world to me. And a special thank you to AliyahNCIS-you have no idea how much that PM meant to me. This chapter was kind of difficult to write-simply because getting into Jenny's head in this state hurts. More than you would think, to be honest. And if this chapter doesn't make sense, please tell me. I donated blood today and I'm still a tad fuzzy (Jibbsgal1, I took a tiny nap before I finished this, I promise).

Disclaimer: I own the OCs and the plot.

"_It's easy to be tough, but hard to be strong," –A.B. (a close friend of my best friend)

* * *

_

It took Jenny a little while to compose herself enough to move.

When she did, she cautiously settled into the chair behind her desk, her hands shaking as they sifted through the papers cluttering the desktop. Deciding to sort through them seemed like a good idea-it would keep both her hands and her mind busy.

She needed to forget this incident. Because if she didn't, then it was just going to push her closer and closer and closer to the very thin edge she was on.

And she couldn't fall. Not again.

Maybe she should run a bath. If it didn't help her relax, it would at least give her a chance to shave her-

Shit. She couldn't think about a razor anymore. Already she was battling against the thoughts swirling round her brain-the ones that told her she could just 'accidently' slip when shaving her ankles, leaving those small, unnoticeable cuts.

No. She would not go there. She was going to run a bath, fill it with lavender bath salts, and re-freaking-lax.

At least she hoped.

She pushed back from the desk, standing up and bracing herself against the solid wooden surface, taking a deep breath. Walking out of the room, she counted each of her footsteps carefully. Thirty to get to the stairs, one on each of the twenty six stairs, fifteen down the hallway, ten into her bedroom and then bathroom, three into the bathroom. Eighty four steps total.

Continuing her deep breathing, she stiffened when she saw the package of new razors in the open cabinet next to the sink. She closed the door to the small wooden cabinet, her hands shaking as she resisted the overwhelming urge. Her fingers remained on the knob, unable to let go.

"Let go," she whispered, almost demanding her fingers to remove themselves. "I will not let myself do this, not tonight, not again. I will be strong enough."

It took more willpower than she would have liked to admit to get her fingers to release their grasp of the tiny silver knob. Leaning against the sink to regroup and prepare for her next task, she closed her eyes, trying to wish away the pain.

Even though she'd learned a long time ago that no amount of wishing could make this kind of pain stop.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and headed towards the tub and twisted the hot water knob after pushing in the plug to let the tub fill. She watched the water gush out of the faucet for a little while, the cascading water capturing her concentration for a short while. Eventually she stood, working the kinks out of her back and walking back into her bedroom.

She undressed methodically; first she unstrapped her high heels, pulling them off each foot and placing them back in her closet neatly, shutting the closet door afterward. Next she took off her sweater, pulling it over her head and tossing it into the hamper, and then she carefully unbuttoned each of the buttons of her blouse with her shaky fingers, cursing when she slipped, finally shrugging the cream-colored silk shirt off of her shoulders and placing it in the dry-cleaning pile near the closet door. Her slacks came next-both buttons were carefully slid out of their holes, the zipper pushed to the bottom before she let them fall to her ankles. She stepped out of the khaki pants, bending down to pick them up and toss them into her hamper. Now standing in only her bra and panties, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

And she still cringed at what she saw.

Her body, had, at one point, held no scars.

Not anymore.

Her arms were laced with scars-some from decades ago, some from nine years ago, and some from two years ago. But her arms weren't the only places with scars.

The soft skin of her stomach was crisscrossed with now-white lines as well. Contrary to popular belief, the arms weren't the only place to inflict pain. It hurt almost more to cut into her abdomen.

But most noticeable on the front of her body was the large scar near her hipbone. The pink scar marred the pale skin of her hips, the line precisely set against the bone. The memory of getting it was still ingrained in her brain, but she fought against the desire to relive it. It was too painful for tonight-too painful to remember when she almost joined her best friend.

She had never had such a mixed reaction to her father before; she'd been upset that he'd stopped her from ending it all, but grateful that he'd saved her from herself. Slicing through her skin with her father's Army knife, just wanting the pain to end.

Ironically enough, she'd only caused herself more pain, in the long run.

She pulled her thoughts away, shaking her head as a chill ran up her spine. The sound of the gushing faucet reminded her of her bath, and she slipped out of her panties and unsnapped her bra, throwing both into the hamper. She padded slowly into the bathroom, throwing some of the bath salts into the steaming water before tying her hair up into a high bun, tucking the crimson strands into in.

She turned off the faucet and threw her white silk robe onto the counter before sliding into the scalding water. The temperature was a few degrees hotter than most could stand, but that was exactly how Jenny liked it. She sank further into the water, submerging herself more fully into the bath.

It took all of her control not to let herself just slip under the water and slip away.

* * *

He was pissed.

He was so pissed he couldn't even see straight.

He slammed her front door on his way out, the smack it made when it hit the frame oddly satisfying. Only to be followed with a pang of regret as he remembered her words from a few months ago.

"_I've been rather fond of that door since I was a child."_

A child. Her childhood. A childhood he knew nothing of.

Why should he, though?

They'd never been one to talk about their pasts, that much was plain to see. If they'd talked, this whole mess possibly could have been avoided. He growled in frustration, seeing red as he started his pick up truck, smacking the wheel with his palm, the sharp 'smack' it made making him feel slightly better.

Damn that frustrating woman! Why couldn't she just admit she was wrong and they could move forward?

_Because she learned from the best_, the ever annoying voice in the back of his head told him. _Because she learned from you, and when do you ever admit you're wrong? You're Leroy Jethro Gibbs!_

He growled again, anger filling him.

"Damn it Jen why do you always have to make everything so damn difficult?" he muttered, shaking his head fiercely, annoyance filling him. "You couldn't just say whatever the hell it is that's bothering you?"

When he pulled into his house, he was still surprised he hadn't been pulled over. He'd been speeding at least twenty miles over the speed limit, and he was pretty sure he'd blown through a handful of stop signs, and even one red light.

He honestly didn't remember the entire drive.

It took him thirty seconds to get into his house, another sixty to go down into his basement, and then another twenty five to have a full mason jar of bourbon in his hand. He downed the alcohol almost greedily-he relished the burn it provided against his esophagus, enjoying the way the pain brought his mind off of Jen for about fifteen seconds.

Until he remembered her again.

What the hell was she keeping from him? Why couldn't she trust him?

_Probably because she thinks you don't trust her,_ that nagging voice whispered again, feeling the tiny devil on his shoulder. _I mean look at how you've treated her recently, with La Grenouille and Hollis and just in general. You aren't exactly about to win a Nobel Peace Prize, my friend._

"Jen can't think I don't trust her," Jethro whispered, shaking his head. "She knows I'd trust her with my life."

_Does she?_ the voice asked, sounding skeptical in his ear. _Does she know that? Why would she know that? How? You haven't exactly done anything to prove that you still do. She may have thought you trusted her at one point, a long time ago, but since that lovely little margarita safari you went on, she doesn't know which was is up and which way is down with you anymore._

"Jen wouldn't think that," Jethro said, shaking his head again, taking another healthy gulp of liquor.

_She is the one who kept your rekindled relationship from you_, the voice reminded him, velvet entering its tone. _Why would she keep that from you if she believed that you trusted her?_

"I didn't give her a reason to tell me," Jethro realized, wincing slightly as the reasons came to light.

He'd been so wrapped up in losing Shannon and Kelly again, he'd pushed away all help at remembering-and that included Jenny. And if they had been in a relationship again-which he didn't doubt, because it was just too plain to see that they had been-then learning about his late wife and daughter would have ripped any semblance of trust she'd thought she'd had with him.

It made him want to head slap himself for throwing it in her face that it was her fault.

"Damn it!"

The mason jar flew across the basement, smashing into the far concrete wall and breaking, the remains of the bourbon splashing against the wall and dripping down while the tinkling sound of falling glass filled the basement as the millions of pieces of the jar fell to the floor like rain.

He'd screwed up, big time. And this time, he didn't think he knew how to fix it.

* * *

Jenny was steadily finding that her bath was not relaxing her at all.

The water was no longer as hot as she would have liked, and she had to resist the urge to just sink back down in to the water and disappear. Her muscles still felt tight and tense, the ache it created running through her and making her cringe, throwing her head back as her spine arched in discomfort.

Deciding she may as well get out, she pulled the plug and watched as the water started to form a small whirlpool by the drain as it rushed out of the tub. Finally standing and drying herself off with a thick white towel, she slipped into her robe.

Picking out pajamas was a process. First she had to weigh the pros and cons of a night gown over flannel pants and a t-shirt. Then, she had to choose which t-shirt to wear with the pair of dark blue flannel pants she'd picked.

It would go unnoticed that they were the same pants he'd left at her house and she'd never returned.

Finally selecting a dark blue camisole, she pulled it on over her head, adjusting the straps over her thin shoulders. She slipped the pants on over her comfortable white boy-short panties, rolling the waistband over her hips, the shirt and pants leaving a thin expanse of creamy white skin exposed.

She walked back into the bathroom, hands shaking as her hand touched the knob. She took a deep breath, pushing through the shakiness as she opened the door and grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste before slamming the door shut, closing her eyes. She collected herself enough to wet her brush and put the paste on before starting the routine.

She brushed each individual tooth before then brushing circles against her teeth, the dentist taught you when you were five. Next were the horizontal stripes, then the vertical. She spit into the sink before rinsing her brush and putting more toothpaste on, starting the process all over again.

When she'd finished her third round, she placed the brush on the counter and reached into the cabinet underneath the sink for the mouthwash. She filled a small cup with the winter mint mouthwash, emptying the cup into her mouth and swishing, the alcohol burning her cheeks and her tongue.

She spit, filled, and repeated four more times, finally placing the mouthwash back under the sink. She picked up her toothbrush, hands beginning to shake once again, though more violently this time.

One hand rested on the knob, and she took a deep breath, yanking it open. She placed her toothbrush back in its place, but before she could close it, they fell.

The package of razors fell into the sink, one single razor sliding out of the package and just lying there, blade side up. Jenny swallowed, the fingers on her right hand curling together, as though aching to pick it up.

And she did. She did ache, so badly. Would it really hurt to do it just once?

That's when she made the decision, because if she waited any longer, blood would be running down her arms in no time. The phone was at her ear in seconds, the number from the paper that had been in her pocket punched in and dialed.

And all Jenny could do was hope that she picked up.

"Patricia?" she asked, her voice whisper-soft and suddenly childlike in its desperate need for a single person to care about her. "I think I need you tonight."

Admittance was the first step to solving any problem.

Wasn't it?


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: As always, your reviews mean the world to me. Thank you-all of you. Today we had a snow day, in March. I love CNY weather.

For Rachel. Stay strong, sweetheart-I'm rooting for you, know that.

"_I set fire to the rain, and I threw us into the flames, when we fell something died, 'cause I knew that that was the last time, the last time," –'Set Fire to the Rain', Adele (This is on her new CD, and it was in the new 'Armywives' episode last night. Another great song by Adele.)

* * *

_

"You should call in sick," Patricia said, watching as Jenny prepared for the day, searching through her closet.

"I can't call in sick," Jenny replied softly, shaking her head as she selected a pair of slim black pants and laid them on the bed, chewing her lip as she searched for a top. Searching through her blouses, she internally debated over a long-sleeved deep burgundy peasant blouse and a three-quarter length sleeve dark teal blouse. Selecting the burgundy top because it would cover her arms better, she set it atop the black pants before searching through her shoes, finding the sangria-colored heels and tossing them onto the bed as well.

"Jenny, last night was bad," Patricia said quietly, her gray eyes boring into Jenny as she watched the redhead brush her hair back, buttoning the black pants and slipping a thin black belt through the loops. "I don't think you should work."

"I can't just stop being Director because I've decided to have a mental breakdown," Jenny argued, pulling the blouse over her head, adjusting it over the cream camisole she had on. "I have to run the agency. I can't trust anyone else to do that."

"Not even Jethro?" Patricia asked, watching as Jenny's form stiffened, her spine straight.

"We agreed we wouldn't mention him," Jenny said somewhat hoarsely, her hands shaking slightly. "Not after last night."

"You called out for him, Jenny, more than once," Patricia said, watching as Jenny turned her head away, although if it was in shame or just embarrassment, Patricia couldn't tell. "He's important to you, that much is plain to see. Why are you avoiding this?"

"Because he wants nothing to do with me, and I'm sick of pushing the issue," Jenny replied softly, reaching across the bedspread to grab her heels, slipping into them with practiced ease. "I've tried and failed to have a successful relationship with him twice. I don't think I have a third one in me."

"How are you ever going to know if you don't try?" Patricia asked, shaking her head. "Jenny, he is not Bobby."

"I know he's not!" Jenny said, suddenly animated. "He is the exact and total opposite of Bobby. That's why I fell in love with him-he made me feel safe. For the first time, a man made me feel safe. I'd never had that before-had never believed it could happen to me. He changed that."

"It isn't too late, Jenny," Patricia said, watching as Jenny sighed, her form sagging slightly. The redhead ran a hand through her messy curls, obviously frustrated. "All you have to do is try. It can't hurt."

"You don't 'try' with Jethro, Patricia," Jenny said, turning to the older woman. "You either 'do' or 'don't'. And I don't think I can handle that right now."

"Jenny, have you ever thought that maybe he could help?" Patricia asked, watching as Jenny's gaze turned skeptical. "He's lost a wife and a daughter; he's obviously not a stranger to loss. And while I'm sure he did not resort to the same measures you did, I'm sure he wasn't what we'd classify as 'sane' for a little while. He may be able to give you a way to cope that you haven't thought of before."

Jenny hadn't thought of it that way before.

But the idea of asking him for help-especially after the horror that had been last night in her study-made her cringe. It was going to be bad enough just seeing him at work. She was hoping to keep their exposure to a minimum-she'd already made a plan to meet Patricia for lunch, and she intended on spending as much time in MTAC, under lockdown, as possible.

She didn't have the strength to call herself a coward.

"I can't worry about him right now," Jenny said, shaking her head as she rubbed her tired eyes, letting out a breath. "I just need to get through today and then I won't see him until Monday. His team isn't working this weekend."

"Is that really what's best, Jenny?" Patricia asked, eyes tightening as they watched her avoid the bathroom entirely.

"To be honest, Patricia, I have no idea what's best anymore," Jenny replied, turning to meet the older woman's tight gaze. "It's been a long time since I've known what's best for me."

The silence that followed her words said everything.

* * *

When Jethro arrived at work, the extra large cup of coffee in his hand was doing nothing for his pounding headache or his pissed off mood. He'd been up over half the night trying to figure out a way to fix things with Jen.

He hadn't done so well.

He sank into his chair, scrubbing a hand down his face as he logged into his computer, glaring at the screen. He hated technology. He missed the days when everything was written by hand and a PDA was a pad and pencil.

He was just rereading a file when the familiar click of heels. His head shot up, his gaze finding Jenny's form as it walked across the catwalk.

She completely ignored him. Didn't even turn her head in his direction.

Not that he'd really expected anything different.

He watched her unlock the outer office and step inside, leaving the door open. He was out of his chair in a second, and was fully intent on going up to see Jenny when he was interrupted.

"Gibbs!"

He turned, reining in his anger as he caught sight of Abby, already dressed in her lab coat, standing near the edge of the bullpen.

"Yeah Abs, whatcha got?" he asked, unable to keep the tiredness out of his voice. She frowned, wringing her hands.

"Well, I got the DNA results back this morning, and, um, Rudi Haas is definitely the father of Maddie Tyler's baby," she answered, watching as Gibbs sagged slightly, running a hand down his face. "Gibbs?"

"Good work Abs," Jethro said, sending her a small smile, letting her know she'd done a good job even though his mood was not a good one. "You got the report written for the Director?"

"I'm going to bring it up to her a little while later," Abby replied, watching as Gibbs' face darkened ever so slightly. "Why?"

"Just askin'," Jethro replied, nodding to her. "Thanks Abby."

"No problem Gibbs," Abby said, sending him a smile. She was walking in the direction of the elevators when she faltered for a moment before turning back to him, her hands clasped together. "Can you send McGee down to my lab when you have a free minute? I need help with one of my babies, and he's the only one that can fix it with me."

"Sure, I'll send him down when we have a lull, Abs," Jethro said, watching her beam at him before she turned and continued headed back towards the elevators. He turned to go up to Jenny's office when he spotted her slipping into MTAC, the locks initiating when the door closed behind her firmly.

Well there went any chance of talking to her for the moment.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face in frustration. He returned to his desk, sinking down into the chair and taking a deep drink of his coffee.

So he had to call Maddie, tell her about how court worked, how her trial would be happening, go over her testimony for the first time out of hundreds of times. He somehow needed to talk to Jen, try to explain to her that he understood what she'd been trying to say, that he knew it wasn't her fault. He needed to deal with his team.

He needed a break.

* * *

Ziva David was on a mission.

She'd arrived at work early so that she could speak to Jenny, but it appeared that everyone else had also arrived early. Gibbs was settled in behind his desk, reading a case file, Tony was doing something within the depths of his desk, and Tim was typing something on his computer.

It seemed that she was not the only one worried because of this case.

She slipped her bag behind her desk and sat in her chair, turning on her computer and flicking her gaze quickly to look at Gibbs. He looked different; only slightly, not something that just anyone would notice.

He just looked tired.

She was just checking her email twenty minutes later when the elevator dinged and Maddie stepped off, still looking timid and afraid. Ziva watched her step into the bullpen and walk to stand in front of Gibbs' desk.

Jethro looked up at Maddie, smiling kindly at her.

"Hey Maddie," he said, watching her smile hesitantly. "I'm glad you could come in."

"I'm not doing much else," Maddie replied quietly. "What do you need?"

"We have the evidence against Haas that we need," Jethro said quietly, watching Maddie swallow heavily. "To go to trial, we need to go over your testimony. We'll go over it with you many times, but today I'd like to have Officer David run it through with you for the first time."

"Alright," Maddie said with a nod, her hands pushed deep into the pockets of her light pink pullover sweatshirt. "Where do I start?"

"I will take you to a conference room right now," Ziva said, standing up and grabbing a copy of Maddie's case file before guiding her out of the room.

About an hour later, the two of them had gone over Maddie's testimony a few times, and while the young woman would probably never be comfortable with telling her story in a court of law, she was able to tell the basic facts and information. It was a start.

"Is Director Shepard in?" Maddie asked softly, biting her lip as she looked hesitantly at Ziva.

"I can take you up to her office, if you would like," Ziva said, offering the blonde woman a smile before standing and leading Maddie out of the conference room and up to Jenny's office. Cynthia looked up when she saw them, smiling.

"Hello Officer David, what can I do for you?" she asked, smiling at Maddie as well.

"Is the director in?" Ziva asked, watching as Cynthia shook her head.

"She's been in MTAC all morning. I can call her and see when she'll be free if you'd like," Cynthia offered, one hand extended towards her phone.

"Thank you, Cynthia, that would be perfect," Ziva said, sinking into one of the chairs near the entrance, nodding Maddie towards the other one.

Ziva could only hope that with Jenny's history, she could pull herself out of MTAC to see Maddie.

* * *

Jenny sat in one of the padded chairs in MTAC, resting her head against the backrest as the technicians mulled around her.

She knew she was hiding. She knew she was a coward.

But she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Then her phone rang, and she sighed, checking the ID to be sure that it wasn't Jethro, relief filling her when she found that it was Cynthia.

"Yes Cynthia, what is it?"

"Director, Officer David and Maddie Tyler are here to see you," Cynthia informed her, and Jenny softened, sighing quietly.

"I'll be there in a minute. Tell them they can wait in my office until I get there," Jenny said, hearing her assistant's confirmation before she ended the call, slipping her phone back into her pant's pocket before standing. She was just about to leave the room when she overheard one of the technician's voices.

"_I think she's cheating on me."_

The memory struck her before she could blink.

"_Who was he Jen?"_

_Bobby was pissed, she could tell. He had he pushed up against a wall, one hand gripping her jaw firmly, keeping her gaze on him, and the other one was shoving her hip into the brick wall of the school. She whimpered softly, pain radiating from everywhere._

"_Who the fuck was he Jen?" Bobby asked again, anger spilling into his voice. "You cheating on me? You being a whore behind my back?"_

"_No, Bobby, no, never, of course not," Jenny insisted, fear creeping into her voice. "He's my lab partner, I had to ask him a question about a lab we did."_

"_I don't think I believe you," Bobby snarled, pushing his face closer to hers. "How can I? All you do is lie."_

"_I've never lied to you Bobby, never," Jenny whispered, begging him. "Baby, you know I'd never-"_

"_Shut up!" Bobby yelled, one fist coming down to backhand her cheek, hitting the bone and causing her to cry out sharply. "Just shut up you lying bitch!"_

_Tears streamed down Jenny's cheeks as she clutched her face and tried to muffle her sobs. Pain radiated from her face, and she couldn't stop the sniffles from escaping her lips._

_She was back in his arms in a moment, cradled to his chest before she could blink. She let it happen; he would be apologizing in a moment, and then they'd forget it ever happened._

"_God baby you know I never wanted-you just made me so jealous-I couldn't help it-I love you baby, you know that, Jenny, I love you so much. You're my everything," Bobby whispered into her hair, peppering kisses into her hair and across her neck and face. She let him hold her tightly, and she buried her face into her shirt, the smell of smoke and beer filling her nose, making her cringe._

_She couldn't tear herself away._

_And it was killing her._


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thanks so much for all of your reviews! :) Sorry about the slowness of updates; real life is really hitting me hard these next few weeks, so everything is going to be much slower, at least until school slows down some.

There was a question about why Jenny's father wasn't doing anything, and I'd like everyone to know the answer. It's because he honestly didn't know. A cutter is very secretive; they keep everything inside and away from the light, and so Jasper Shepard honestly didn't know the pain that his daughter was dealing with. It's not that he didn't care or didn't love her-in later chapters their relationship will be more fully explored. :)

Also (Ah, I know, this A/N is really long, I'm sorry), Ziva mentions Cairo in here. At some point (in the future-near or distant remains to be seen), I will be writing a story detailing these events. It is to be titled 'Scarred', and there's a brief summary in my profile in the 'Coming up…Mulitchapters' section if you'd like to read a little more.

Alright…I think I'm done.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away," –'Whisper', Evanescence

* * *

_

Ziva led Maddie into Jenny's office, where the younger girl timidly sat in one of the chairs at the conference table. Ziva sat at the head of the table after shutting down the door, waiting for Jenny.

But when the redhead walked into the office less than ten minutes later, Ziva could tell something was very wrong.

Jenny's eyes held that haunted, hazy look that had followed the flashback yesterday, and Ziva could only guess that that meant that another memory had hit. She watched as Jenny straightened, the haze dissipating as she caught sight of Maddie and Ziva, the corners of her mouth twitching up in an attempt at a smile.

"Hello Maddie," Jenny said, and Ziva couldn't help noticing how mechanical her friend's speech sounded. As though she was falling back on a recording in order to make it through this conversation. "How are you?"

"Well, I've been better," Maddie said with a shrug, her mouth twisting as her hands fell into her lap, her fingers on one hand playing with a ring on the other, twisting it back and forth. "But I've also been worse. So today is…an okay day, I guess."

The corner of Jenny's mouth twitched up; this girl was smart, and reminded Jenny of herself in more ways than one.

"What brings you to the agency this morning, Maddie?" Jenny asked, tilting her head curiously at the young woman. Jenny didn't recall there being a need for Maddie, but she'd been wrong before.

"We have been going over her testimony, Director," Ziva answered, sitting forward in her chair slightly. Jenny looked confused for the briefest of seconds before understanding flooded her eyes, and she nodded slightly.

"I see," Jenny replied, swallowing, her throat moving with the motion. "Has a date been set, Officer David?"

"Agent Gibbs is sending the report to Justice when he is finished; he said he will bring a copy up as well," Ziva said, studying the older woman carefully. Jenny had become very good at hiding her true emotions, but even the strongest person could not have stopped the flinch that was elicited by his name. It just hurt too much at the moment to cover up; the wound was still too raw.

"I'll have Cynthia take it, I need to return to MTAC soon," Jenny replied somewhat stiffly, the muscles in her jaw tight as she attempted to reign in her emotion before it spilled over. "Will I expect to see you again, Maddie?"

"Yes, I think so," Maddie said in a small voice, and for the first time Jenny caught onto the young woman's fear. Jenny leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the desk as she tilted her head, bringing Maddie's gaze up to meet hers.

"He can't hurt you anymore Maddie," Jenny said softly, trying to encourage the girl. "You can move forward from this, and live the life you want too. This isn't an ending, Maddie, it's a new beginning, even if it doesn't look like it is now."

Jenny watched as the girl's hazel eyes widened slightly before her gaze dropped to her lap, playing with a loose string in the sleeve of her pullover. With the tighter clothes the bump in her torso was more prominent than it had been the day before, and Jenny forced the bile that rose in her throat back down.

She forced herself to calm down; she forced herself to relax, and focus on anything other than Lizzie's pregnancy. The thought still made her shudder; the thought of Lizzie and Bobby and…

She swallowed, trying to think of happier thoughts than this. Maddie was still looking down at her hands, but Ziva's face was lined with concern, her chocolate brown eyes boring into Jenny as the Israeli tried to discover which memory was haunting her.

If only it was just one.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, but I need to get back to MTAC soon," Jenny said, the thought of being in her office-even with people-made her nervous; she didn't want another confrontation with Jethro, not at the moment. She just couldn't handle it.

She stood, rounding the desk as Maddie and Ziva both stood as well, starting towards the door. She shook Maddie's hand, watching the younger woman bite her lip. "I hope I'll see you again soon Maddie."

"Me too," Maddie replied, her voice still holding the timid quality. She walked out of the room slowly, but Ziva lingered, raising an eyebrow in concern at Jenny.

"Ziva," Jenny stated quietly, watching the Israeli's eyes flicker.

"Jenny," Ziva returned, her voice cool as she studied her friend.

The redhead looked tired, very tired. The bags underneath her eyes had not been hidden by her make-up, and the pure exhaustion glittering in her emerald green irises was prominent. Her stance was one of a defeated woman merely trying to get through the day so that she could collapse into bed as soon as she arrived home.

Ziva did not like the similarities that were appearing between now and Egypt.

"A bad night?" she asked, watching something a little like fear flicker in Jenny's eyes before they shut down entirely.

"Just another day Ziva," Jenny replied softly, shaking her head as she gripped the door handle harder.

"It does not look as though it is just another day, Jenny," Ziva remarked, raising an eyebrow at her friend. Jenny sighed, rubbing at her eyes.

"Your observation skills are too keen for your own damn good,' Jenny muttered, rolling her eyes as she tried to think of something to fool Ziva with.

Not much came to mind.

"Just a little too much paperwork last night," Jenny said, shrugging one shoulder up slightly, almost carelessly, wishing that Ziva did have quite as high a sense of observation as she did. Ziva eyes scanned her face, but then Maddie cleared her throat nervously from behind them, and she snapped her head towards the girl slightly.

Obviously deciding that Jenny was not worth fighting with at the moment, she sighed, shrugging one shoulder.

"If you say so, Director," Ziva said, but her disbelief was more than obvious. "I will escort you out, Maddie."

Jenny watched as Ziva led Maddie out of the outer office and then down to presumably the lobby. Closing her door, she walked over to her desk and sank gratefully into her chair, resting her head back. She would be escaping to MTAC shortly, but for now she was content to relax into her chair.

She had barely been sitting for two minutes where there was a knock on her door, and she frowned. But Jethro never knocked, so she figured she was safe.

"Come in," she called, watching as the door opened and Abby shuffled in nervously, her thick black boots thudding softly against the carpet. "Hello Abby. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I have the report from the lab, about who the father of Maddie's baby is, but I guess since Maddie and Ziva were just in here, then you already know, right?" Abby said, her words stumbling together slightly as she spoke, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought. "I just wanted to bring this up because I don't really have anything running right now until a team gets a case and brings me evidence and I wanted to come and see you because you haven't been down in my lab for a while and-"

"Abby, breathe," Jenny interrupted with a gentle smile, watching as the Goth stopped, her chest rising as she inhaled. "Thank you for the report Abby, and it was nice of you to bring it up personally."

"It's just been ages since you last came by my lab and I just thought maybe, if you were free, you might want to, I don't know, get lunch or something?" Abby suggested, a barely-disguised hope in her eyes. Jenny's heart twisted as she regarded the younger woman, and she fought against the frown that threatened to twist her lips.

"Abby, I'd love to, but I already made lunch plans with an old friend," Jenny tried to explain delicately, but she still wasn't prepared for the shattered look that crossed the Goth's face before it was replaced by an attempt at nonchalance.

"Oh it's completely fine," Abby said, but her bubbly-ness had dissipated slightly, her green eyes not as bright as they had been before. Jenny scrambled to fix it, because she couldn't take the disappointment staring her in the face.

"What about tomorrow?" Jenny suggested, watching as a tiny smile spread over Abby's lips. "I know you're on call tomorrow, and I'll be here doing paperwork. What about if we went out to lunch then?"

"That sounds like a really good idea," Abby said, a smile finally lighting her face back up again, and Jenny felt relief blossom in her chest. She offered the younger woman a smile, feeling a little better now that she knew she had plans tomorrow. "I should let you get back to work. What time do you think tomorrow?"

"What about noon?" Jenny suggested, watching Abby nod, her black pigtails bobbing.

"Sounds perfect. I'll see you tomorrow Jenny," Abby said, grabbing the door and turning back to smile at the older woman before slipping out, closing the door behind her.

Jenny rested her head back against her chair, closing her eyes as a smile played on her lips.

Friendship was what she truly needed right now-even if she couldn't explain why.

* * *

Jethro sat at his desk, looking up as Abby walked out of Jenny's office, and he ached to go up and see her, but he couldn't. He couldn't tell her what he needed to, he couldn't explain like he had to, in her office. So he merely watched in silence as she slipped out of her office a few minutes later, a small stack of files in her arms as she scanned herself into MTAC, initiating the lock behind her.

He returned to his report in frustration, glaring at his screen. He knew his team was worried; they'd been throwing him sidelong glances that they all thought that he hadn't noticed. But he had.

Yet they were right to worry, he could say. This case was hitting home in all the wrong places, and he'd never quite been affected like this by a case. And he didn't like the way it was impacting other people- people he cared about.

He huffed out a breath, reaching up and scrubbing a hand down his face tiredly, two steps from exhaustion. He stood, pushing his chair out behind him and grabbing his jacket, slipping it onto his shoulders.

"Goin' for coffee," were his only words to his team, and they all called out similar responses of affirmation. As he stepped into the elevator, he sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't going for coffee.

When the car pulled up to the cemetery parking lot less than forty minutes later, he only felt a touch of guilt for leaving work in the middle of the day. But his reasons were justified-to him, at least.

Although he normally brought flowers to lay on their graves, his hands were bare today. He hadn't wanted to stop; he simply wanted to see his girls.

And so he walked through the cemetery slowly, but with purpose. He knew where he was going, and so when he rounded the hill and saw a figure by the two headstones, he frowned.

But the frown disappeared when he came closer and discovered just who the visitor was. Aware of what she'd been through, he cleared his throat a good ten feet away from her, wincing when she jumped regardless.

Maddie Tyler turned, wiping hastily at the tears the wet her cheeks as she looked at him. She lowered her gaze immediately, obviously afraid.

"I'm-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-it's just sometimes I-I come to tell Kel-Kelly what's been going-going on and today I just-it's been so hard," Maddie whispered, shaking her head as more tears formed, coursing down her cheeks in thick rivers.

"You don't have to apologize, Maddie," Jethro said, shaking his head at her apologies. "She was your best friend-you don't need an invitation to see her."

"I just miss her," Maddie said, looking back at the headstone, her teary hazel eyes lingering on the words etched in the stone.

"Me too, kid," Jethro said, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips as he gazed at the graves of his wife and daughter.

As the two stood in silence in front of the graves of Shannon and Kelly Gibbs, a connection, a bond that neither had anticipated, formed as the wind blew around them.

If only the bond could be strong enough to face what was to come.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews-they're all incredibly helpful, and I can't believe we're at almost 100 of them already! Thank you for all of your support on this story!

For those of you reading 'A Past Reminder', I'm still having trouble writing the chapter, so I think I'm just going to skip this week and update this coming weekend.

That, and I really needed to write this chapter.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_Well it's a windin' road, when you're in the lost and found, you're a lover I'm a runner, and we go 'round 'n 'round. And I love you but I leave you, I don't want you but I need you," –'Colder Weather', Zac Brown Band [I've been listening to this song on repeat since yesterday, and it's just…perfect.]

* * *

_

When Jenny returned from lunch with Patricia, she knew she hadn't fooled the older woman one bit.

She'd been shaky the entire time; her fingers hadn't been able to remain still. She hadn't had much of an appetite, and most of the meal had been spent pushing her salad around her bowl instead of ingesting it. She'd been unfocused, not concentrating on what her friend had been saying.

She just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

She unlocked her office and slipped inside, leaving the door open as she shrugged out of her coat and placed it on the hook. She sank into the chair behind her desk and skimmed through the stack of files on her desk, rubbing at her eyes when she realized how much work she had to get done.

Forgetting she was trying to avoid someone, she left her door unlocked and open as she read the case file. She was just signing off on it when she felt the presence of another body in her office, and she flicked her gaze upwards to find the one man she didn't want standing in front of her desk.

But why did her heart suddenly speed up at the sight of him? Why did the hurting diminish in only the smallest amount?

Why did she have to need him like this?

"Special Agent Gibbs," she said when she finally found her voice. "Something I can help you with?"

"You've been avoiding me all day," he simply stated, his hands in his pockets as he looked at her, his face and eyes neutral. She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Contrary to your belief, I don't run this agency around you," Jenny retorted, her eyes flashing slightly. "I've been in MTAC running Ops that you haven't been read into. Not my fault you couldn't get in to see me between operations."

She watched as Jethro sighed, his cool composure under strain as he ran a hand through his hair. She was curious; where was the angry, macho-man act he'd displayed last night?

"Do you need something, or are you just planning on harassing me some more?" Jenny asked, exasperated. He needed to do what he came to do and then leave.

"I was wrong, last night," he said suddenly, and Jenny's eyes widened as she fought to keep her jaw from dropping onto the desk. "I shouldn't have said those things I just…I was angry, and you took the brunt of it."

"You should be angry," Jenny murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Jethro shook his head, closing the door and coming closer.

"No, Jen, I didn't," he said softly, tilting his head as he begged her to look at him. "Jen, I don't blame you for not telling me."

"Why the hell not?" she asked, tears suddenly glistening in her eyes as anger and frustration began to swirl through her. "Why don't you blame me? _How_ can you not blame me?"

"Because I never gave you a reason to tell me," Jethro replied, watching as she looked away, pain visible in her every movement. "Jen, I lied to you. How could I have expected you to trust me?"

"I trust you," she insisted, bringing her eyes back up to his. "Of course I trust you. Jethro I didn't trust myself anymore. And that hurt so much more."

He watched as she swallowed, the fingers of her right hands curling into a fist, nails biting into her skin. His heart broke at the sight of her, and it took everything he had not to help her.

"Jen I…"

"Please don't," she whispered, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. "I can't do this now, Jethro, I just can't. Please…please just leave. I can't have this conversation with you right now. I just can't."

She kept her eyes closed as she waited. After a few seconds of silence, she heard the door open and close, and she let out a quiet sob as she buried her face into her hands.

She couldn't keep doing this.

* * *

Ducky was enjoying a hot cup of Earl Grey tea when the doors to Autopsy swished open, and Jethro walked in, looking exhausted. Ducky raised an eyebrow at his old friend, watching as he hopped up onto the empty exam table near his desk.

"Something on your mind, Jethro?" he asked quizzically as his old friend remained silent.

"I think I screwed up," Jethro said, his voice heavy as he sighed. Noting the confusion on the ME's face, he clarified. "With Jen."

"What have you done that you believe you screwed up, exactly?" Ducky asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend as he folded his arms across his chest and sat back in his chair, observing the silver-haired agent.

"I…yelled at her-for things that really weren't her fault. And now…now she won't even so much as look at me. And I don't think I know how to fix this, Duck," Jethro answered, dragging his hand down his face in frustration, shaking his head. "I mean we've fought before but…this time it's different. There's something more than just this going on, Duck. And I intend on finding out what."

"Jethro, have you ever thought about the fact that Jennifer may not want you to know?" Ducky asked, watching as his friend's face contracted slightly. "There may be a reason for her not telling you what is going on?"

"But why wouldn't she tell me?" Jethro asked, the barest hint of confusion entering his eyes.

"Jethro, things are different than they were before you left for your margarita safari," Ducky said, adopting the term from Jenny, his voice hard as he looked intently at his friend. "Jenny is not the same person she was before you went to Mexico. You need to accept that things may never be the same between you two, especially now that you are aware of what you left behind and, in essence, threw away by leaving."

"But I didn't know I was throwing anything away!" Jethro exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation as he slid off of the exam table and started to pace. "How can I fix something that I wasn't even aware of until yesterday?"

"Jethro, you may just need to accept that this is something you will not be able to fix," Ducky said, watching as Jethro shook his head.

"No, no I won't just accept it!" he said, his eyes gleaming. "I'm going to find out what's going on."

Ducky watched as Jethro stormed out of Autopsy, the doors swishing closed behind him. He sighed, shaking his head slightly as he took a sip of his now lukewarm tea.

He didn't know if he wanted to see where Jethro's investigation took him.

* * *

Abby stacked the plastic specimen jar onto the top of her pyramid, grinning triumphantly when it stayed in place.

She'd been completely bored out of her mind for the last hour, so she was resorting to childish ways to keep herself occupied while she waited for a case to come through. She was straightening up the pyramid when a throat cleared from the doorway, and she jumped, knocking over the jars.

"Gibbs, you made me knock over my pyramid. This better be damn good," Abby said, hands falling to her hips as she glared at the silver-haired man standing in the doorway. Her glare lessened at the sight of the Caf-Pow! in his hand. "Unless that's for me."

His only answer was to take a few steps closer and offer her the red container, which she took from him and took a gulp of happily. He watched her, a faint smile on his face.

"You need something from me el jefe?" Abby asked, tilting her head at him as she looked at him. "You don't normally venture into my lab with a Caf-Pow! unless you want something from me."

"You bring that report up to the director yet Abs?" he asked, watching as her eyebrows contracted slightly as she gazed at him with her dark green eyes.

"Yeah, I did this morning," Abby answered, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "Made plans with her tomorrow."

"Plans?" Jethro asked, raising one eyebrow at her.

"We're having lunch tomorrow, since I'm on call and she'll be in the building. She couldn't today because she was having lunch with an old friend," Abby replied, shrugging one shoulder slightly.

"Did she say who?"

"No, Gibbs, she didn't," Abby said, her hands falling to her hips as a touch of annoyance came into her voice. "Why don't you ask Jenny these questions instead of me? It's her life you're prying into. Gibbs, is something going on?"

"Thanks, Abs," Jethro said simply, leaning over and kissing her cheek gently before turning and leaving the lab with no explanations.

"He is _so_ frustrating," Abby muttered, annoyance filling her. She bent and scooped up the fallen specimen jars, setting them back on the table. She tapped her fingers against the table for a moment before heading over to her desk and grabbing her phone. Dialing Tim's number, she waited for him to pick up. "Timmy it's Abby."

"Hey Abs, what's up?" Tim asked, and Abby could hear the slight smile in his voice.

"Timmy, has Gibbs been acting…hinky?" Abby asked, frowning slightly as she waited for his answer.

"Well, I guess you could say that he's been acting a little differently," Tim said, and Abby could hear him shrug. "This case has gotten everyone out of sorts though, so it isn't surprising."

"But it isn't just this case McGee," Abby insisted, shaking her head so that her pigtails bounced. "I think that something is going on between Gibbs and the director."

"Abby, you said that after she was kidnapped," Tim said, his tone trying to be gentle. "And then Gibbs left for Mexico two months later."

"But Timmy, he also had just come out of a coma after losing his memory," Abby pointed out. "We never had sufficient proof."

"Abby, now isn't the time for this," Tim said with a sigh, and Abby could just picture him scratching the back of his neck. Abby huffed out a breath, frowning.

"Fine. But this conversation isn't over McGee!" she said, slamming her phone back in its cradle. She muttered underneath her breath, folding her arms.

"I will get to the bottom of this."

* * *

Determined to leave the building at the first moment possible, Jenny gathered all the necessary files into her briefcase and carried the rest in her arms after pulling on her coat. Flipping her hair out of the collar, she lifted the files in one arm, her bag on her shoulder, and her half cup of coffee in her other hand. She locked her office behind her and headed for the elevator, not even casting a glance into the bullpen.

Jethro watched as Jenny stepped into the elevator, and determined to talk to her, he stood and grabbed his coat, practically jogging to the elevator by the time it opened. Jenny stood in one corner, the only one in the elevator. Her gaze was on the floor in front of her, and she hadn't noticed him. He stepped in, and she seemed to break from her spell. Her eyes tightened at the sight of him, and she duly ignored him as the doors closed.

The elevator had almost reached the parking garage when Jethro flipped the emergency stop switch. Jenny glared at him, shifting the files in her hand.

"Flip the switch back. I don't have time for this Jethro."

"Make time Jenny," Jethro said, shaking his head.

"I'm serious, Jethro, I don't find this amusing."

"I'm serious too. We don't leave this elevator until you talk to me."

It was going to be a long night from the way she was ignoring him.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: A new chapter is being posted so quickly simply because this story's inspiration has been in the forefront of my brain. And this week has been…questionable, to say the least.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_Because of you, I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me, because of you, I am afraid,"-'Because of You', Kelly Clarkson [I prefer the version with Reba McEntire, personally. The video for that version is perfect for Jenny in this chapter.]

* * *

_

Jethro watched as Jenny continued to ignore him, her arms holding the files, her briefcase on her shoulder, and a coffee cup in her hand. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, tapping her foot in annoyance.

"You just gonna stand there all night?" he asked, watching as she turned her gaze on him, her green irises burning with anger.

"If you'd flip the damn switch, I wouldn't have to," she snapped, frustration clear in her body language. He folded his arms, his cool gaze resting on her.

"I'll flip the switch when you talk to me."

"Why the hell would I talk to you?" she asked, her gaze still burning. "I have nothing to say to you right now. So flip the switch and let me go home."

"Jen, we are not leaving this elevator until you talk to me."

"Don't 'Jen' me, Special Agent Gibbs," Jenny retorted, her voice sharp. "I would like to go home. Flip the switch. That's an order."

"Never been very good at following those," Jethro replied with a shrug, watching as she sighed in frustration, shaking her head. "What's so difficult about talking to me?"

"You have no need to know."

"I've heard those words before," he said, watching as her eyes flashed dangerously.

Jenny was sick of the interrogation he was performing on her. Did he not remember that she'd watched thousands of interrogations done by him, had participated in quite a few as well? She knew his techniques, his way of coercing information out of a suspect. She wasn't an idiot.

"The interrogation techniques aren't going to work on me," Jenny informed him, shrugging slightly. "You prepared to stay in here all night?"

"Are you?" he countered, watching her sigh as she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall of the elevator.

_Well, if I'm locked in here with him I guess I can't do much to myself_, Jenny thought, keeping her eyes closed as she leaned against the cool metal wall of the elevator. _Either way I'd still like to go home and sleep in my own bed._

She didn't even notice him come closer, but in a millisecond she felt him corner her as his presence washed over her, and fear flashed through her as the memory hit unexpectedly.

"_Look at me."_

_The simple command forced the tears to stream out of Jenny's eyes and run down her cheeks and eventually slide down her neck; the fear that pulsated through her rooting her feet to the ground, cementing her in place, not that she had even the opportunity to move. Her back was pressed into the corner of her bedroom, his hands on the walls on both sides of her, effectively trapping her._

"_I said look at me damn it!" Bobby yelled, his face close to hers as he glared at her. Her tear-filled eyes rose slowly to his, waiting for him to speak; waiting for the punishment she knew she deserved, on some level.. "You've been avoiding me all week. Why?"_

"_I haven't been avoiding you Bobby, I promise. I've just been busy baby," Jenny insisted, watching as he shook his head, disbelief clear in his body language and his tone. "I'm not lying to you Bobby, I swear."_

"_You've been busy all week?" Bobby asked, harsh skepticism in his voice, and he ended his statement with a bitter laugh. "So busy that you've had to relay all of your messages through your nosy friends and your spineless father? You really expect me to believe that bunch of lies, Jen? Do you think I'm an idiot or something?"_

"_You never listen to me when I tell you what I have to do!" Jenny exclaimed, pushing against him as a surge of courage filled her, but he didn't stumble; his gaze merely darkened as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You never let me do what I need to! It's always all about you! Bobby, Bobby, Bobby! What about Jenny? I have needs too, Bobby! The world doesn't revolve around you, as much as you'd like it to!"_

_Bobby was silent as he regarded her, his eyes unreadable. Jenny's chest heaved as she breathed heavily, the courage she'd felt only a moment ago gone completely. She felt tinier than a mouse, when seconds before she'd felt as big as a lion._

"_I will not tolerate being spoken to like that," Bobby snarled, one hand grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging, ignoring her cry of pain as he jerked her head backwards, not even noticing when her head struck the corner of a shelf near her ear and a line of blood began to trickle down from her hairline. "You will not speak to me like, you ignorant bitch."_

_Jenny whimpered, pain filling her as her hair was tugged at, the roots stinging. Tears ran down her cheeks as she nodded, unable to speak. Her head hurt from where it had struck the shelf, and she could feel the warm line of blood as it dribbled down her head and neck, leaving a red stain._

"_I need to hear you say it!" Bobby yelled, and Jenny flinched, a sob breaking through her lips as she tried to cower away from him, but his grip on her hair hindered her movement, only causing more pain._

"_It won't happen again Bobby, I promise," she whispered hoarsely, choking on her tears. His brown eyes continued to burn into her green ones before he lowered his head to hers, pressing his mouth against hers as he let go of her hair and grabbed her hips, pressing her back against the wall. His hips pushed into hers, and she whimpered as he continued to kiss her. Slowly he guided her back to the bed, lying on top of her._

_Jenny muffled her cries in her pillow as she kept her eyes firmly shut. They may have called it making love, but she felt no love at all from the act that Bobby performed on her._

"Jen?"

She was pulled back to the present by Jethro's concerned voice, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"What?" she choked out, unable to keep the tremor from her voice.

Jethro's eyebrows contracted in confusion at the sight of Jenny. He'd only taken a few steps closer, and then her eyes had clouded over with fear before she seemed to disappear into her own brain. And now she sounded like she was about to cry.

What the hell was going on?

"Jenny, what's wrong?" he asked softly, concerned. "Where'd you go?"

"I haven't left," she retorted, trying to be defensive with humor. He wasn't going to buy it, not this time. She wasn't getting an easy way out.

"I meant in your flashback, Jen," he interrupted, shaking his head at her, ignoring her exasperated look at him. "I know what one looks like Jen. Can you not lie to me, just once?"

"Why do you have to push this so much?" she asked in a whisper, shaking her head at him, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. "Why can't you just not care and just leave me alone?"

He didn't answer; just let the small half-smirk that touched his lips say everything. She sighed again, shaking her head.

"Can you just tell me why?" Jenny asked, tilting her head at him slightly, her green eyes unreadable in the low light of the elevator. "Why do you need to know, when it really isn't any of your business?"

"It would be," Jethro replied softly, watching as she looked away, her gaze falling to the carpeted floor. "Jen, you know it would be."

"Are we going to go over you leaving yet again?" she asked, still not looking at him. "We haven't beaten this issue into the ground already?"

"Just why didn't you tell me Jenny?" he asked, the tiniest note of desperation tingeing his tone. She sighed, sinking to the ground and putting her files and coffee cup by her side and resting her head back against the wall.

"Because I thought it was best," she said quietly, her eyes closed as she brought her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "Not the first time I've been wrong in thinking I knew what was best for me or the people around me."

Jethro sank onto the floor opposite her, resting his elbows on his raised knees as he linked his fingers together. He merely watched her, taking in her locked hands and her crossed ankles, unable to stop himself from admiring her curves, as irrational the observation was. She was still beautiful, that hadn't changed.

What had changed was the way she carried herself; she looked almost…defeated, as though she had lost some will to fight something-or someone, he still didn't know. And he was determined to find that information out before they left this elevator.

"You were so distraught…Jethro I'd never seen you like that," Jenny continued at a murmur, her voice so low Jethro almost didn't catch it. "I couldn't add just one more thing to make you hurt-how could I tell you we were together when you barely even remembered me in Jethro? How could I tell you we'd been seeing each other when you felt like you'd just lost your wife and daughter a few weeks ago, even if it had been years? How could I do that to you?"

Jethro watched as pain etched itself into her face, creasing her forehead and lining her face. Her mouth twisted itself into a frown, the hard lines creasing her cheeks.

"I just couldn't do it," she said with a sigh, her face relaxing slightly. "I'd already hurt you, I couldn't do it-I couldn't go through it again. So I watched you leave, and I prayed that when you came back you'd remember and then everything would go back to the way it was-even if things had changed between us."

"But I didn't," Jethro said quietly, watching as she nodded slightly.

"And then the lovely Lieutenant Colonel Mann entered the picture, and I gave up hope," Jenny said, a bitter edge coming into her voice. "And here we are today, you locking us into an elevator to talk. Funny how everything comes full circle, isn't it?"

"Nothing funny about it," Jethro said, watching as she let out a harsh laugh.

"You don't find irony funny?" she asked, opening her eyes to look at him. "It's absolutely hilarious."

"Not to me, Jen," he said, shaking his head. "Irony is dangerous. We should know that by now."

"Irony is the basis of existence," Jenny remarked softly, and Jethro watched as pain filled her eyes and she got that far away look in her eyes that signified a flashback.

He was desperate to help, but he didn't know how. If this flashback was so painful it made tears spring to Jenny's eyes, then touching her was out of the question, especially with how rocky their relationship was at the moment. So he was forced to watch as tears spilled over her lids and flowed down her cheeks.

Finally she inhaled sharply and her eyes clear slightly, but the pain was still more than evident, and she looked so tiny and afraid. It broke his heart.

"Please let me leave," she whispered, her voice breaking with a sob. "Please Jethro, just let me go home."

His only response was to flip the switch, letting the lift reach the parking lot.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews-this story is my favorite one to write, to be honest, because the issues are really real to me. AliyahNCIS-I know you wanted Gibbs to be a 'silent, supportive presence'. This is the most I can give you right now. :)

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs.

"_How [s]he needs me so, and [s]he'll be the last to know it," -'My Husband Makes Movies' from the 'Nine' musical-made-film, Luisa Cantini, played by Marion Cotillard [This is sung by a woman towards her husband, but I'm using it as Gibbs to Jenny. It's a very good film-I watched it about four times on Saturday.]

* * *

_

The rest of the ride to the parking lot was silent, filled only with the sounds of Jenny sniffling as she wiped at the tears that ran down her cheeks.

When the lift reached the ground, Gibbs already had Jenny's files in his hand, her bag on his shoulder, and her coffee cup in his hand. She blinked in confusion, looking up at him hesitantly.

"Why do you have my things?" she whispered, gripping the bar on the wall of the elevator and pulling herself up, reaching her feet. She swayed slightly but then straightened, turning to look at him.

"You think I'm letting you drive home?" he asked quietly, raising an eyebrow at her. She sighed, shaking her head as she rubbed at her eyes tiredly.

"I can't argue with you now. Can I please just have my things, and you can antagonize me on Monday, when you come back to work?" she implored, brushing back her hair, her fingers touching the scar the shelf had given her lightly; it was still hidden behind her hairline, thankfully.

"Jen, you can ride in with your detail tomorrow. Please, just let me drive you home," he asked, practically begging. Jenny seemed to consider it, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.

"Fine," she said finally, sighing. "Please just take me home then."

He led her to his car, his hands ghosting over her lower back, opening the door for her and making sure she was inside before he went around to his side, climbing inside and handing Jenny her things back. She curled into the seat and angled her body towards the window, her head resting against the cool glass.

Jenny sighed, pressing her warm temple against the cold glass as Jethro started the car. He drove at for-once a human pace, and she closed her eyes, keeping her mind blank for the first time all day. She felt safe, and she didn't want the feeling to go away.

Jethro was having a hard time concentrating on the road when Jenny was curled up in the seat next to him. Her unique scent filled the car, and it went straight to his head. His gaze returned to the woman next to him, and he had to resist the urge to frown.

Jenny looked so tiny in the large seat; she looked like she wasn't eating, with how thin and little she looked. Her flaming hair stood out against the black upholstery, and he ached to be able to brush the curls that covered her face back into place.

She stirred slightly, letting out a soft moan as she slipped further away from dreamland. But she didn't wake; instead she shifted so that she was facing him, and by some cruel twist of fate, her head wound up resting on his shoulder. Her breath was warm against his neck, and when she burrowed herself even more into him, he decided holding his breath was the only was he'd be able to survive.

When he pulled into her driveway twenty minutes later, he shut off the car and just sat there for a few moments. Jenny looked peaceful, and he didn't know how he was going to wake her. But he really had to sneeze, so he turned his head, and the sound and the movement awoke her.

Jenny sat straight up, confused as to where she was. Then, remembering what was going on, she felt her face flush as she realized she'd been asleep on Jethro. Flicking her gaze in his direction momentarily, she was relieved to see that he wasn't looking at her.

"Thank you, for the ride, Jethro," she said, clearing her throat as she spoke.

"Anytime, Jen," he said carefully in return, turning to look at her. "You'll be okay to go inside by yourself?"

"Not my first time with these two legs and feet," Jenny replied, but she didn't have the energy to snap anymore. She grabbed her things and opened the door, turning back momentarily to look at him, the hint of a smile touching her lips. "Have a good weekend, Jethro."

With that she closed the door and walked towards her front door, unlocking it and slipping inside without a backward glance.

"Jen, if you think I have any chance at a good weekend, you are insane," Jethro murmured, turning the car back on and backing out of the driveway. But instead of driving off, he sat at the end of the block, keeping vigil the only way he could at this point in time.

Jenny was worth it.

* * *

Jenny slipped into her house and locked the door behind her, putting the files and her bag in her office before throwing the coffee cup out in the kitchen. Noemi had left lasagna on the oven, but Jenny had absolutely no desire to eat. But forcing herself to take the time to cut a square and put it on a plate, moving it around so that the plate looked used before scraping the food into the garbage disposal, she turned the machine on and waited for the food to disappear. She left the plate and fork in the sink and drank a big glass of water, leaving the cup in the sink as well.

She bypassed the study on the way to her bedroom, and she decided to forget paperwork for tonight. It was all she'd be doing tomorrow until the Op in MTAC at 1800, so she could slack off tonight.

She changed from her work clothes to a pair of stretchy black yoga pants and a purple long-sleeved t-shirt and curled up in her bed, sliding underneath the covers. She curled into a ball, pressing her hot cheek against the cool cotton pillowcase. Before she knew it, the tears were slipping down her cheeks, and she didn't stop them.

"_I need to talk to you."_

Lizzie's voice echoed in her head, and the helpless quality her best friend's voice had held had taken her breath away. She could still picture her seventeen year old friend showing up at her house at ten forty five at night on that crystal clear May night.

Jenny closed her eyes, her breathing evening out as the memory pulled her closer and closer.

_For the first time in a long time, seventeen year old Jenny Shepard felt safe-really and truly safe._

_She was curled up in the living room, a book in her lap, the house blissfully quiet. A mug of steaming green tea sat on the coffee table, and Jenny grasped the ceramic handle, bringing it up to her lips and taking a sip._

_Her peace was disrupted by a loud, frantic knocking at her front door. Jenny let out a sigh, closing her book and placing her mug back on the table. Standing, she stretched her back as she walked towards the front door. The knocking happened again, and she bit back a groan._

"_I'm coming!" she called, reaching the front door. Pulling it open, she was ready to let the questions fly, but the sight of her best friend stopped her. Lizzie's cheeks were streaked with tears, her lower lip was bloodied and swollen, and bruises were forming on her cheeks, the purple splotches shiny with her tears. She was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and baggy sweatpants, and when she moved she winced. "Lizzie, what's wrong?"_

"_Can I please come in?" Lizzie asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Jenny nodded, opening the door wider so that her friend could come inside. Jenny led Lizzie into the living room, sitting her down gently on the couch._

"_Lizzie, what happened?" Jenny asked, her green eyes concerned as she looked at her friend. Lizzie's gray eyes filled with tears, and she tried to wipe them away, but only winced when her fingers hit the bruises on her cheekbones. "Liz?"_

"_Bob-Bobby," Lizzie stammered out, swallowing heavily as her voice clogged with emotion and more tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Jenny waited for her friend to continue, but didn't want to push._

"_Bobby what, Liz?" Jenny asked after a few minutes of tense silence, filled with only Lizzie's sobs._

"_He…he broke in, a few hours ago," Lizzie explained, her gaze locked on her hands. "He was dru-unk, and he thought you-you'd be there. And when you weren't he-he…"_

_Lizzie stopped, shaking her head as she buried her face in her hands, sobs filling the room. Jenny sat silently, unable to speak._

_Horror filled her as she replayed her friend's words. It couldn't…he wouldn't…Oh God, Lizzie._

"_Liz…" Jenny whispered, still feeling frozen inside. "Liz, what did he do to you?"_

"_He…Jen he raped me," Lizzie managed to choke out before the sobs consumed her and she was too preoccupied to say anymore. Jenny tried to swallow, but found she couldn't around the huge lump in her throat._

_She could not believe he had done this. She could not believe that Bobby had sunken to such a low level. He couldn't hurt her anymore, so he hurt her best friend._

"_I knew the restraining order was a bad idea," Jenny whispered, shaking her head. "He will never be finished with me! He can't hurt me anymore, so he hurts you?"_

"_Don't even think that Jen!" Lizzie said, her eyes suddenly burning and intense. "That restraining order was the best thing that you ever did. Bobby is the one at fault, not you."_

"_He hurt you, Liz!" Jenny cried, standing up and starting to pace, her hands shaking as she walked. "He raped you! He'll never stop until everything is taken from me!"_

_Lizzie swallowed, turning her head away. Jenny continued pacing, the cuts on her arms starting to ache, and she clenched her hands, trying to shove away the urge that suddenly gripped her._

"_I can't do it anymore," Jenny whispered, shaking her head. "I can't live like this anymore."_

"_What are you gonna do?" Lizzie asked in a quiet voice, looking at her friend. Jenny stopped pacing, and she turned to look at her friend, her jaw hard._

"_I'm going to make it end."_

Jenny bolted awake, sitting straight up in bed, covered in sweat. Tears leaked from her eyes, and she drew in a shuddering breath, trying to calm her racing heart. The memory had become a dream, and it shook her even more to remember it again.

That memory was one of the worst; that night would never leave her brain. Just another mark against Bobby; another strike that showed his true colors-that showed what a bastard he was.

She still couldn't believe she'd ever fallen for him-had ever been fooled by his lies and his façade and his charming smile. At least now, she saw the evil between his seemingly-perfect face.

And she hated the poor excuse of a man that was behind the exterior.

But the memory still brought back the urge to cut; the urge that told her that she'd feel better, that her pain would go away if she just gave in. And she was finding less and less reasons to say no this time around-because there were so many less reasons to say no for.

_Do you really want to have to tell Patricia why there are cuts on your wrists? _Lizzie's voice filled her head, and Jenny closed her eyes, sighing.

No, of course I don't, Jenny replied silently, shaking her head.

_What about Jethro? Do you want him to ask questions about why you have bandages on your forearms? _Lizzie asked, and Jenny could just picture her friend standing in front of her, one hand on her hip.

I don't want him to ask me questions about why I look like crap, why the hell would I want him to ask me questions about bandages? Jenny retorted, frustration filling her.

_Well, you're the one who wants to cut, _Lizzie stated, and Jenny groaned.

You aren't helping.

_I'm not supposed to. I'm supposed to make you stop._

Jenny groaned, shaking her head. She was truly going insane-normal people didn't have conversations with their dead best friend in their head. And said dead best friend didn't normally talk back.

"I'm going crazy," Jenny muttered, shaking her head.

She just wanted to forget everything. She wanted it all to just disappear, for it all to stop.

She slipped out of bed and into her bathroom, grabbing the sleeping pills from the large cabinet in the corner and taking them with a sip of water. Curling back up underneath her covers, she closed her eyes, waiting for the pills to take effect.

She felt the calming effects soon enough, and let herself drift in the suspended place between real sleep and awareness.

She could only hope the sunlight of the morning would chase away the demons hiding in the shadows.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews! I planned on having this out last night, but then real life just got in the way, so it's being put up now, instead.

Jibbsgal1 gets a shout-out simply because I adore her, and need to thank her, again. :)

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_I look at you and smile because I'm fine," –'On Top', The Killers

* * *

_

The next morning found Jenny in her office, reading through the fountain of files that was on her desk.

She sighed, rubbing at her aching eyes. She'd been at this for the past two hours, and her head was killing her-a combination of a long night spent crying, not much sleep, the dim lighting in her office, and the messy handwriting of her agents.

She was very happy she'd be leaving it in less than half an hour to go to lunch with Abby. Even if having lunch with said Gothic forensic scientist would mean putting up a front that the girl couldn't see through.

Standing, she stretched her back, the satisfied cracking sounds easing some of the tension. She grabbed her bottle of water and drank it as she walked into her bathroom, going over to the sink and glancing in the mirror.

The dark circles were clear under her eyes, and she winced, reaching into her medicine cabinet and grabbing her concealer, slicking the stick underneath her eyes and rubbing the make-up into her skin, watching as the dark circles disappeared. Giving the rest of her face a once-over, she washed the access make-up off of her hands before returning to her desk, taking the stack of finished files in her arms and bringing them out to Cynthia's desk.

Ten minutes later she was walking into Abby's lab, trying not to wince at the loud music blasting from the speakers.

"Abby!" she called, trying to be heard over the blaring guitar music. The Goth obviously couldn't hear her, so Jenny slipped further into the lab and shut off the music, watching as Abby turned her head to look at who it was.

"Oh, Director!" she said, eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"It's fine, Abby," Jenny assured her, shaking her head. "Are you ready to leave, or are you working a case?"

"I'm all set, I was just looking at some things for Gibbs," Abby said, clicking a few keys on her keyboard and shutting off the monitors before grabbing her coat.

Their conversation was light as they made their way to the elevator, and when Jenny offered to drive, Abby accepted easily. Jenny led the younger girl towards her car, and as Abby slipped into the passenger's side, Jenny climbed into the driver's side. She started the car and pulled out of the NCIS garage, starting into the city to find a place to eat.

"Any place you had in mind, Abby?" Jenny asked, turning her head to look at the Goth. Abby contemplated for a moment before her eyes lit up and she turned to Jenny with a grin.

"There's this new cafe that just opened, what about there?" Abby suggested, and Jenny nodded. Sounded easy and simple, and that was exactly how she wanted it.

"Sounds perfect Abby," Jenny replied, nodding. "Can you give me directions?"

They pulled into the restaurant parking lot twenty minutes later, and they both stepped out. The wait was nonexistent, and they were soon seated with menus. Abby scanned the menu thoroughly, but Jenny merely glanced at the salads and selected one at random, intent on just pushing the food around her plate the entire meal.

When the waiter arrived, they ordered-a lemon water and a raspberry and almond salad for Jenny, and a limeade and a turkey bacon bravo sandwich for Abby. The two settled into their chairs when they finished ordering, and Abby immediately started the conversation-a quality Jenny loved about the younger girl.

"So I went to the movies with Timmy last weekend-not like a date, or anything, but just as friends-because that's all Timmy is, he's a really good friend, my best friend-but, anyway, we went and saw that some action thriller that Tony recommended and…"

Jenny zoned as Abby talked, listening to the babble of the forensic scientist. She was comfortable, sitting here with Abby in a restaurant. She felt safe.

"But I totally wouldn't see the movie, because it so isn't worth it," Abby concluded, and Jenny brought her mind back to attention, nodding.

"I don't have much time to see movies anyway," Jenny said with a slight shrug, and Abby frowned, nodding.

"Do you have any free time?" Abby asked, tilting her head slightly. Jenny sighed, shaking her head.

"Not much," Jenny admitted, her shoulder jumping up in a shrug. "Most of my free time is spent doing paperwork."

"That's no way to spend free time," Abby said, wrinkling her nose. "Don't you ever have any fun?"

"Directors don't really have fun, Abby," Jenny replied, the hint of a smile gracing her lips. "My social calendar is filled with political events and balls."

"But aren't the balls any fun?" Abby persisted, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. Jenny held in the laugh; obviously, Abby had never been to a SecNav sponsored ball.

"I'll have to take you sometime; a political ball is not exactly fun. There's a lot of politicking and schmoozing and it's actually quite boring. And I never dance, so…"

"Oh, but why don't you dance?" Abby asked, her voice going high-pitched in excitement. "I love to dance!"

"Abby, they don't exactly play heavy metal at these balls, Abby," Jenny informed her, letting out a soft laugh. "It's more classical, and really, really old fashioned music."

"Oh," Abby said, her mouth twisting slightly. "So now…Suicide Commando or Android Lust?"

"No, definitely not," Jenny said, shaking her head. "I don't think I've even heard of those bands."

"Oh, I'll have to make you a CD," Abby said, her eyes brightening. "And you have to promise to actually listen to it. I made Gibbs one and I'm pretty sure it hasn't left the case I gave it to him once."

"I'd be surprised if Jethro even owns a CD player," Jenny replied, an amused smirk on her face. "He pretty much still uses his Walkman, and that's about it. A television was a big investment for him."

"And I think he turns that on, like, once a month," Abby added, a giggle escaping her. Jenny let a real smile slip onto her face, and soon enough they were laughing like schoolgirls at the table.

They were able to compose themselves in time for the food to arrive, and they settled in to eat.

Jenny found herself actually eating a few bites of her salad every now and then, popping a raspberry and an almond into her mouth as well. Abby enjoyed her sandwich and her limeade, and she seemed genuinely happy.

"I'm really glad we decided to do this," Abby said, grinning across the table at her. Jenny returned the Goth's excitement with a lesser smile, nodding.

"Me too. We'll have to do it again when you're working a weekend," Jenny suggested, watching as Abby's green eyes lit up.

"That's a great idea Director!"

"Abby, off the job it's Jenny," Jenny told her, watching as Abby nodded. "It's only Director at work. I like to try and have some form of differentiation."

"Totally understandable," Abby said, nodding enthusiastically. "It's almost one thirty. That means we should probably get back to the agency, right?"

"They do tend to worry when I disappear for long periods of time, so yes, we should probably head back," Jenny agreed, slipping her card into the bill to pay, waving off Abby's attempts to pay as well. "It's my treat, please Abby."

"Alright. But I get the next one," she said, and Jenny agreed, waiting for the waiter to return with her card. "Do you have an Op today?"

"At 1800 I do," Jenny said, nodding. "I'll be in MTAC until at least 2200."

"That's a long night," Abby said with a sympathetic wince, and Jenny nodded with a grimace. "Is this every weekend?"

"Not always," Jenny said, shaking her head. "An Op this late and long only comes every once and a while."

"Well that's good," Abby said, getting up from the table and following Jenny out of the restaurant, back to the car. "I can't imagine working that much. I mean, don't get me wrong I love my job but, I mean, I like my social life too."

"When you get to be my age, a social life doesn't really mean as much," Jenny said with a slight shrug. "It's just nice to have a house to come home to at night with food and coffee."

"Sounds…" Abby struggled to find the right word, so Jenny helped her.

"Boring?"

"Mundane sounds better," Abby said, and Jenny let out a laugh.

"Just another way to say boring, Abby," Jenny said, shaking her head as she drove back to the agency.

But Abby was right. Boring was a good way to distract it.

* * *

Jenny walked back into her office after saying goodbye to Abby and was just settling into her chair when her cell rang. Bringing it up to her ear, she answered without checking the caller ID.

"Shepard," she answered, her tone a little lifeless as she waited.

"Jen?"

It took Jenny a moment, but finally she placed the voice as belonging to Ashley, and she smiled.

"Hey Ashley," Jenny replied, and she heard the other woman's sigh of relief.

"Jenny, for a second I thought I had the wrong number," Ashley admitted, laughter filling her voice. "Oh, I'm glad I don't."

"No, you've got me," Jenny replied, relaxing into her chair. "So what's up?"

"Well, I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow afternoon," Ashley said, and Jenny thought, not remembering anything.

"I think I'm free. Why, what's up?" she asked, turning her chair slightly to slip off her heels.

"Well, Beth was wondering if you could come over so she could talk to you about Georgetown, and Giselle has been asking about you," Ashley started, and Jenny could practically hear the other woman biting her lip. "I was thinking you could come over and have coffee, then stay for lunch. Only if you want to, that is."

"I'd love to," Jenny said, reassuring the woman. "I'd love to talk to Beth about college, and see Giselle again. What time were you thinking about?"

"Could you be here around eleven?" Ashley asked, and Jenny agreed. "Steve is taking Christian to a friend's and then bringing Lilly to the zoo."

"Lizzie loved the zoo," Jenny commented softly, a smile touching her face at her friend's love of the zoo-even when she was a teenager. Jenny had been dragged to the zoo on multiple occasions, and she'd never complained, because to be honest, she loved the zoo just as much.

"That she did," Ashley agreed, and Jenny could practically hear the brunette nodding her head. "All my kids love it too, even Beth, and she's sixteen."

"Liz loved the zoo when she was sixteen even more than she did when she was six, if that's even possible," Jenny reminded her, and happier memories filled her as she thought about her friend's happiness. "Those were fun times."

"I loved seeing Liz happy and smiling," Ashley said, an undercurrent of sadness tingeing her tone as she spoke. Jenny swallowed hard, nodding.

"I missed that the most, when she saw gone," she admitted quietly. "I missed seeing her happy and hearing her laugh. Even if it could get obnoxious at times."

"I'd give anything to hear her laugh again," Ashley replied, and both women sighed. It was hard to lose the ones you loved.

"I have to get ready for an Op," Jenny said sadly, sitting up slightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ashley."

"Bye Jen, we'll see you at eleven," Ashley replied, and Jenny waited for the other woman's click before setting the phone back in its cradle. She stood, stretching her neck before grabbing her files and her coffee and heading for the door. Time for four hours in MTAC.

Joy.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! :) Next day service…I'm pretty impressed with myself. This chapter is a little bittersweet, but for different reasons than it has been in the past.

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs.

"_You're never gonna be alone from this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go, I won't let you fall, you're never gonna be alone, I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone," –'Never Gonna Be Alone", Nickelback [I love this song, and this band. This music video makes me cry, every time.]_

* * *

After another long night, Jenny found herself pulling up to Ashley's house at eleven thirty.

It had taken her a long time to prep herself this morning; a nightmare had shaken her, and she'd been awake from four thirty on. She could only hope that she didn't look as exhausted as she felt; she hadn't bothered to look in the mirror for too long, because she honestly couldn't stand to see herself.

She really wasn't pleased with the reflection anymore.

Sighing, she opened the car door and stepped out, closing the door behind her. Dressed in casual jeans, her warm brown boots, and a thick white cotton sweater, she was at least comfortable, even if she didn't look as put-together as she normally did.

Walking up to the front door, she knocked, waiting as the seconds ticked by. The door was opened a few moments later by Beth, whose face brightened when she saw her.

"Hi Jenny!" she said, opening the door wider to let her in.

"Good morning Beth," Jenny said, stepping into house and slipping out of her boots. The brunette teenager was dressed in black yoga pants and a pink short-sleeved shirt, her curls up in a high ponytail. "How are you?"

"Well, considering the fact that I got to sleep until ten today, I can't complain," Beth said, her face breaking out into a grin. Jenny let out a slightly-forced laugh, trying to hide the strain.

"Sleeping in is the nice thing about the weekends," Jenny agreed, following Beth into the living room. Ashley and Giselle were curled up on the couch, both absorbed in some kid princess movie, and it was right at the point where the prince raced in and swooped the princess off her feet, carrying her into the sunset.

Jenny had learned long ago that fairy tales were just that-fairy tales. There were no daring princes or white knights-shining armor became tin foil, and princes turned into ogres with evil in their hearts.

She'd given up on happy endings-they were overrated, and she had no desire to fit into the stereotype.

"Mom, Jenny is here," Beth said, sinking onto the couch next to her younger sister, pulling the little girl's feet into her lap. Ashley looked up, her gray eyes brightening when she saw her.

"Mm, hey Jen, I'm glad you're here," Ashley said, running her hand through her youngest daughter's thick ebony curls. "We're just finishing out movie. Feel free to take a seat."

Jenny slid into the armchair next to the couch, tucking her feet up underneath her, her eyes taking in the screen. A blonde princess was in the arms of a blue-eyed prince, their gazes locked as they declared their love for each other. She had to swallow the nasty comments in her throat; Beth and Giselle deserved the chance to believe in happy endings-to have dreams of finding their perfect prince.

She glanced at Giselle, who was completely absorbed in the movie. The little girl's blue eyes were wide as she gazed at the screen, the scenes on the television flickering in her bright sapphire irises.

For a moment, those blue eyes reminded her of Jethro, and seeing them on a child hit a place on her heart she didn't often think about.

If she really and truly thought about it, it wouldn't be improbable for her to have a child this age, in a different life. If she'd stayed, it was more than possible that she could have a daughter that was Giselle's age, and other children, as well. And that hurt to think about; the possibility of becoming a mother had always been something she would have liked, but it just had never worked out.

And then she'd gone and thrown away any chance of ever grasping motherhood when she left a letter in her coat pocket on a plane. And then managing to destroy a second chance relationship with him. And now these past few days; these past few days were she'd walked through Hell again.

The credits began to roll after the hero and heroine shared a passionate kiss of 'True Love'-Jenny had to hold in her snort. True love was for things like this-for fairy tales and kids' movies.

"Well, Gizzie, I hope you enjoyed that," Ashley said, sitting forward and stretching her back. "Because that is the thousandth time Mommy has watched it with you. We need to return it to the library this afternoon. You'll have to pick a different movie this time, alright?"

"But Mommy that one is my favorite!" Giselle complained, her lower lip jutting out in a pout as her baby blue eyes became pleading as she clasped her hands together underneath her chin. "Pleaseeee Mommy?"

"Baby, we've seen this movie so many times, I can quote it," Ashley said, but Jenny could see the woman relenting, and Jenny bit her lower lip to keep in her laughter.

"But Mommy, it's my favorite!" Giselle insisted, folding her arms over her chest and sitting back slightly. "I don't wanna return it."

"Giz, we're not gonna fight about this anymore," Ashley said, shaking her head slightly, but good-naturedly. "Miss Jenny is here, and so we're going to behave and act like a big girl, right? We talked about this yesterday, do you remember?"

Giselle merely nodded, her curls bouncing in her excitement. She stood and soothed the wrinkles in her blue cotton dress, a pattern of stars and rainbows on her thick woolen tights. She bounded over to Jenny, immediately clambering up onto her lap and hugging her.

"Hi Miss Jenny I'm glad you came back!" she said in excitement, her voice right in Jenny's ear. Jenny hesitantly hugged the child back; she honestly didn't have much experience with kids, and while she knew Giselle meant well, being touched was still…difficult, for her.

"Giz, let Jen breathe," Ashley said, noticing Jenny's discomfort and trying to coax her youngest off of Jenny's lap. Giselle slid off after a moment, looking between the two women for a moment. "Why don't you get your coloring book, sweetheart? You can color Miss Jenny a picture."

"Good idea Mommy!" Giselle said, her face lighting up before she scampered out of the room in search of her coloring book. Ashley turned to Jenny, her face twisting into a frown.

"I apologize, for Giselle," she said, her face apologetic. "She really doesn't mean harm…"

"It's fine, Ashley," Jenny said, shaking her head. "She's six. She isn't doing any harm at all."

"Giz just likes to hug people," Beth added, shrugging one of her shoulders slightly from her place on the couch. "It's just how she is. She hugs everyone she meets-I'm surprised she didn't completely attack you that night you came for dinner."

"I didn't give her the opportunity," Jenny replied, running a hand through her loose waves of crimson hair. "So, heard anything from Georgetown?"

"I have an interview with the dean of admissions the end of next week," Beth said, and Jenny could sense the girl's nervousness.

"Anxious?" Jenny asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. Beth nodded, ducking her head as she bit her lip, her pearly white front teeth sinking into her full bottom lip. "Don't be. Just be confident and be yourself, and you'll do great. Confidence is the most important part; if you go in there and act like you know what you want and you won't let anyone stop you, then you'll be golden."

"Is that what you did?" Beth asked, raising her curious blue gaze to Jenny's. Jenny nodded, allowing the girl a small smile.

"All you have to do is hold your head high, shake the dean of admission's hand, and have the confidence to be exactly who you are," Jenny told her, watching as the teenager nodded, her blue eyes taking in every detail. "I know you'll do great."

"Thanks," Beth said, her pale cheeks flooding with color as she lowered her gaze, her teeth sinking back into her lip. Jenny smiled, the innocence of the teen causing her to sigh softly. Beth stood and stretch, sending Jenny a smile before turning to her mom. "Is it alright if I call Avery now? He was wondering if I could go over to his house and watch his band play today."

"Beth, you know I don't like all those…rock and roll kids," Ashley said, sighing slightly. "Will there be drugs?"

"Mom, I've already told you about a million times, Avery and his friends have never done drugs, and they don't intend on ever doing them. They like to play rock and roll music. That doesn't instantly make them addicts, Mom," Beth said, her blue eyes hardening as she looked at her mom. "I really hate that you stereotype them like that. If you actually took the time to meet him, you'd find out that he's a really great person. He has a younger sister with leukemia, and his band is playing at a benefit for her tonight. I'd really like to be there for him, considering that fact that I'm his girlfriend. But if you'd prefer I didn't, then let me call him."

Jenny watched the teenager get fired up, and her eyebrows rose slowly as the teenager began to explain more and more. And a part of her heart tugged, because she'd never have the opportunity to fight with her teenager daughter about boys or anything like that. Because she'd never have a teenaged daughter.

Yet another reason to hate Bobby Austin.

"Beth, all you had to do was talk to me," Ashley said when she finally recovered enough to speak. "All you've done is gotten defensive about him, you've never told me anything. I didn't even know he had a sister, let alone one with leukemia. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because Mom, I barely get a word in around here," Beth said with a sigh, one hand falling to her hip. "It's not like you have a tremendous amount of free time."

"Are we really doing this right now?" Ashley asked, shaking her head incredulously. "Call Avery, go to the benefit. We can have this discussion later."

Beth turned and left without a word, and Ashley let out a groan as she closed her eyes and threw her head back against the couch cushions.

"This is incredibly embarrassing," she said, shaking her head. "I just had a mini-fight with my daughter about her boyfriend who I've met twice and seriously misjudged."

"At least you have a daughter to fight with," Jenny commented softly, and Ashley lifted her head up, apologies already clear in her eyes.

"Oh Jen I didn't even think…I am so sorry."

"It's nothing to be sorry about, Ash," Jenny said, shaking her head. "You've just been blessed to be a mother to four beautiful kids. You have no idea how much I envy you, Ashley."

"Jen…why didn't you take the time?" Ashley asked, tilting her head slightly. Jenny sighed, leaning back into the chair slightly as she thought about it.

"Because the one man I really ever considered having a child with was gone," she said softly. "I could never get pregnant in the middle of the Op and then I made the decision to leave because I couldn't handle the darkness that surrounded him. And then…I just decided it wasn't worth the effort anymore."

"A child is worth everything Jenny," Ashley said with the shake of her head. "I can't image not having Beth and Christian and Lilly and Giselle. I'd give my life up for them, I'd do anything."

"And you are so lucky, Ashley," Jenny said, letting out a sigh. Ashley was about to respond when Giselle walked back in, her thick princess coloring book in her hand with a large box of crayons. The conversation stopped, and Giselle plopped down near Jenny's feet, opening her coloring book to color her a picture.

For the next hour Jenny sat and colored with the six year old, and she had more fun than she expected. Lunch was a quiet affair; Giselle filled it with her chatter, and Jenny merely enjoyed the company of the entertaining child.

She left with three colored pictures and a promise to return, and a date to have coffee with Ashley later in the week. She drove to her house slowly, the silence within the car deafening. Her house was just as quiet, and she deposited her keys in the bowl and hung up her coat on the rack.

She went upstairs and changed from her jeans to a pair of comfortable Georgetown sweats, and she curled up in her study after starting a fire, a mug of tea on her desk, and a stack of files in her lap. She was halfway through her pile when there was a knock on her front door, and she groaned quietly, placing the files on her desk and heading for the door.

She opened it, surprised to find Ziva standing her front stoop.

"Ziva, what can I do for you?" she asked, confusion swirling through her. Why was her friend at her house on a Sunday?

"First, you can let me in," Ziva said, and Jenny did so, still confused. After the Israeli was inside Jenny closed the door, leaning back against it and waiting for her friend to speak. When she didn't, Jenny broke the silence.

"Ziva, what is it?"

Silence followed her question; Ziva studied her critically, her brown eyes boring into Jenny. Finally, she spoke.

"Tell me what is going on."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! The feedback on this story is just plain incredible, and I really appreciate you all! For those that have PMed to say how much this story has helped-thank you! When I set out to write this story, I never imagined how it would impact other people! So, thank you, all of you! And this chapter is shorter than the others have been-the muse just wanted to end it where it did.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_But I'd rather you be mean than love and lie, I'd rather hear the truth and have to say goodbye, I'd rather take a blow at least then I would know, but baby don't you break my heart slow," –'Baby Don't You Break My Heart Slow', Taylor Swift [She is my absolute teenage girl weakness.]_

* * *

In the moments following Ziva' statement, Jenny was silent, as was Ziva, and so was the rest of the house.

Just complete and utter silence.

Then Jenny sighed, running a hand through her hair tiredly, closing her eyes as she leaned more heavily on the door.

"I guess I should have been expecting this," she said, a shaky laugh making its way past her lips as she opened her eyes to look at Ziva, who stood in front of her with crossed arms, her face a mask of calm, but her worry reflected in the warm brown pools of her eyes. "You may as well come in and sit down."

Ziva followed Jenny into the living room, choosing the seat across of the couch, where Jenny had taken a seat and pulled her feet up in front of her. She studied her friend; the redhead looked tired, completely exhausted-and her green eyes held a sadness she hadn't seen since Egypt.

"Jenny, what is going on?' Ziva asked her voice lilting with concern. "I have not seen you this draught since…Cairo."

"Cairo was much worse, Ziva," Jenny said, shuddering at the memory of their shared apartment, the razor mere millimeters from her skin as she sat in the bathroom with the door locked. She's learned how fast Ziva could pick a lock that day. She let out another sigh, leaning back against the pillows slightly. "Do you see the resemblance?"

"Between Maddie and yourself?" Ziva asked, tilting her head slightly as she took in her friend. "There are quite a few similarities, I will agree with you there."

"Ziva, this girl is like how I was when I was seventeen," Jenny said, eyes suddenly on fire. "Granted, I wasn't the one raped and pregnant, but those cuts, on her arms? My arms looked like that, with fresh cuts and bloody bandages. I know that pain and torment that girl is going through, and I don't even know how to stop it, because it's taking all of my power not to get sucked back down into the vortex of it all."

"It is back?" Ziva asked, leaning forward slightly so that her elbows dug into her knees. Jenny closed her eyes, her voice suddenly very small.

"It never really left," she admitted, unable to look at her friend, but hearing the minute intake of breath that came from Ziva regardless. "I was just able to get a better grip of it before this case opened up all of these old wounds. I haven't felt the urge this badly in two years."

Ziva was quiet, tracing back the steps. Her eyes widened when she realized what the meant-two years ago was when Gibbs had left for Mexico. Had Jenny really been that devastated and she hadn't noticed?

"Why did you not tell me?" she asked softly, watching as Jenny's spine stiffened slightly, her posture becoming rigid.

"I couldn't tell anyone Ziva," Jenny said, shaking her head from side to side stiffly, trying very hard to remain in control. "This isn't anybody's problem to deal with but my own."

"You have friends Jenny," Ziva replied, desperation entering her tone. She wanted her friend to see that when she was hurting, so was everyone else. When Jenny bled, they all bled-that was how a friendship and a family worked. "You could have turned to me for support or-"

"No."

The single syllable escaped Jenny's lips, and the room was covered in a deathly silence. Ziva was stunned-rarely was Jenny this hostile.

"This is my burden to bear, my cross to carry. I will not place my inability to handle any strong emotion on someone else," Jenny said, her eyes hard, and yet calm. "I'm screwed up, but that doesn't mean I have to make anyone else messed up."

"Jenny you are not 'screwed up', as you say," Ziva said, shaking her head. "Everyone has problems."

"Not as big as mine," Jenny replied, raising an eyebrow slightly. "I don't know many people who were abused by their boyfriend for almost two years, had their best friend raped by said boyfriend, then had said best friend commit suicide after learning she was pregnant by her rapist's child."

Ziva swallowed, unable to answer. Jenny took a deep breath, burying her face in her hands.

"I'm a horrible person," Jenny said, shaking her head back and forth. "You come here, trying to help, and all I do is push you away."

"It is only natural," Ziva replied, shrugging one shoulder slightly. "It is human nature to shy away from help. We all like to believe we are perfect, and knowing there are flaws that we cannot fix is difficult for us to understand and accept."

"I hate goddamn perfectionism," Jenny said bitterly, her tone biting as she struggled to overcome the roadblock that had jumped in her way.

Perfectionism had haunted her since childhood; she'd always strived to be the best, to do the best, to have that moment where she was the best and no one could touch that. As a child, she'd wanted to be the perfect ballerina, then as a teenager, the perfect student. In college, she'd wanted to reach the top; she'd wanted the gold stars, the perfect grades, that winning smile. In her career, she'd reached the top faster than anyone had expected, especially as a woman.

But looking behind her, there was a trail of terror in her wake. A father's suicide, two broken hearts, and a past that had so many glitches and bruises and screw-ups, she couldn't believe she'd ever thought she'd been perfect.

But the little devil on her shoulder told her that she could be perfect with just one flick of the wrist; with just one swift motion, she could be as goddamn perfect as she wanted to be.

In one single cut, she could be more perfect than the moon.

She stiffened, trying to push the thoughts away. She couldn't dwell on this; she couldn't think about being perfect, because perfection was merely a state of mind. She was human, and humans had flaws.

She hated flaws.

"Jenny?"

She was pulled from her thoughts by Ziva's voice, and she sighed, slipping out of her tangled thoughts and back to the real world, where all her hurting hit her full force.

"Are you alright?" Ziva asked, her brown eyes large as they regarded her, obviously trying to understand what frame of mind she was in.

"No," Jenny whispered, unable to keep her guard up any longer. Tears pricked her eyes, and she let the strong defense she'd been trying to keep up fall down, shattering into a million pieces when it hit the ground. "No, I'm not alright. I'm ripping at the seams Ziva, and I don't know how much longer until I burst completely."

Ziva swallowed, and she moved from her chair to the couch where Jenny sat, taking one of her friend's hands in her own, linking their fingers. She wished she could offer more support, but she didn't know how else to help.

Cairo had been a different setting; they'd been partners, living together, and Jenny had been much closer to the breaking point then. They'd been in a country where the lines between law and justice were blurred, and where torture and crime were just a part of every day life. And Jenny had taken that hard; she'd resorted to finding control in watching her arms bleed.

Ziva did not want to see that happen to Jenny ever again.

"You will not burst," Ziva said softly, wrapping her arms around Jenny when the redhead leaned into her embrace, her head falling onto Ziva's shoulder. "If need be, I will get out my needle and sew you back up."

"I don't think there's enough string in the world to sew me back up," Jenny said, but a laugh was heard through her tears, and Ziva felt a flash of pride at the sound. "No wonder I can't keep a relationship. I'm too messed up for anyone to handle."

"Men often do not understand loss, Jenny," Ziva told her, shrugging her free shoulder slightly. "They do not understand what it is like to lose a friend like Lizzie, or to have suffered at the hands of someone like Bobby. They do not get it."

"Jethro does," Jenny said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He knows loss better than even I do."

"Then why do you not confide in him?" Ziva suggested, quirking her head slightly at her friend as she pulled away from her embrace and leaned back against the couch cushions.

"Because I just can't," Jenny said, shaking her head. Her eyes were heavy with emotion, her lashes weighed down with tears. "How can I tell him all of this when we can barely look each other in the eyes anymore?"

"You were involved," Ziva said, her voice quiet as she made her observation. Jenny's eyes widened slightly before she sighed, tucking some loose hair behind her ear.

"More than once," Jenny admitted, shaking her head as she wiped at the tears that had trailed down her cheeks. "It's all catching up to me all over again, and I don't think I can outrun it this time."

"Then don't," Ziva said simply, shrugging. Jenny frowned, tilting her head.

"Don't what?" she asked, confused as to what her friend meant.

"Don't run," Ziva said, watching as understanding washed over Jenny's face.

Jenny swallowed, understanding Ziva's words. They were a possibility, but she wasn't sure she could do it. It would require strength.

She didn't know if she had any strength left.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews! I think that this is going to be the last update for about three weeks-I leave for France in less than four days, and I'll be gone for ten days. So, this update will have to tide you over until then :) Oh, and I stole Alex from Law and Order: SVU, because I like her. Hope that doesn't upset anyone too much.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_These roads never seemed so long, since your paper heart stopped beating leaving me suddenly alone, will daybreak ever come?" –'Paperthin Hymn', Anberlin [A band I recently discovered…this song is one of their best, in my personal opinion.]_

* * *

Jenny was dreading going back to work.

Monday morning had dawned, and she sat in her kitchen, a cup of coffee on the table in front of her. Her eyes stared unseeingly into the distance, her mind blank.

She wanted desperately to just spend all day in bed; her body ached all over, her muscles felt weak and unsteady. A day that would consist of paperwork and standing in MTAC was not what she needed; a day where the chances of running into Jethro were extremely high was not something she wanted to think about.

Sighing, she took the mug of coffee and poured it down the sink; not much of it had actually made it into her stomach. She rinsed the mug and placed it in the drying rack, drying off her hands before straightening her slim khaki pants, the waistband slipping on her hips; the recent days of not eating had caused her to lose weight. The long-sleeved royal purple top she wore felt baggier than it had been the last time she wore it, and she tugged at the sleeves, wishing she had something more to cover the scars with.

She walked into the front hall, grabbing her keys and her coat, pulling it on over her clothes. Taking a deep breath, she opened the front door and stepped out, locking it behind her.

She'd have to face the day at some point.

* * *

When she arrived at the agency, not many people were there; even Jethro wasn't at his desk yet. She unlocked her office and stepped inside, leaving the door open and walking to her desk. She slipped out of her coat and hung it up in the closet before taking a seat behind her desk and logging into the computer, letting out a soft groan at the amount of unanswered emails she had.

She read the important ones first, responding when needed. Her responses were short and formal; she was in no way able to crack jokes or be humorous in her emails. After about half an hour, she stopped, because the screen was giving her a headache, and her eyes were aching.

She stood and stretched, the ache in her back intensifying as she moved. She bit back the moan of pain, worried that Cynthia would hear.

She needed to move, or do something; she couldn't just sit any longer.

She grabbed the files she'd already signed and brought them out to Cynthia, who took them with a smile. Jenny appreciated her assistant's enthusiasm; at least one of them was eager to do her job today.

Deciding she just needed fresh coffee and a brief walk, she headed out of the outer office and towards the elevator, hitting the floor for the break room. She thought she'd have a straight ride there, but then stopped on the next floor, and she barely held in the moan that rose in her throat when she caught sight of the man stepping on.

Jethro had decided he needed to get away from his team, and he needed coffee, but he wasn't in the mood to drive to his usual place. So as he waited for the elevator to go to the break room, he tapped his foot, his thoughts on Jenny.

He'd had to resist the urge to drive to her house both Saturday and Sunday; with everything that had happened in the recent days, and the incident in the elevator Friday night, he'd come to the conclusion that maybe staying away for a little while would be the best plan of action. There were obviously things he didn't know about that were playing a part in how she was feeling, and he wouldn't push.

He'd give her the privacy she seemed to crave.

But when he raised his gaze when the elevators opened, his stomach tightened at the sight of Jenny. She stood to the right side of the elevator, her arms folded over her chest, pressed tight to her body. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, the crimson strands brushing her neck and her bangs hung just over her eyes.

She blinked when she saw him, her face and eyes not giving anything away. One of her hands came up and pushed her bangs out of her eyes, and she stepped to the side slightly, allowing him access to the elevator.

He stepped in without a word, noting that the button for the break room was already lit. Jenny took a deep breath next to him, and his eyes darted over to her.

"Going to the break room?" he asked, not wanting anymore silence.

"That would be why the button was lit," she said snippily, her arms crossed firmly over her chest again.

"Just tryin' to fill the silence Jen. Don't have to take my head off," Jethro replied, watching as her shoulders contracted before relaxing, her hands dropping to her sides. She snaked one hand to the emergency stop button, flipping it and plunging them into darkness.

"What do you want, Jethro?" she asked, turning towards him and looking up at him, her eyes tired.

"You look tired," he observed softly, watching as her emerald eyes flickered slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"And why do you care about if I look tired or not?" Jenny asked, running one hand through her hair, the strands falling easily through her fingers. Jethro shifted his weight to his other foot, his arms crossing over his chest as he regarded her.

"Why shouldn't I care?" he countered, his voice not carrying the note of accusation or anger that she'd expected. "I have every right to care about you Jenny."

Jenny couldn't respond; her voice caught in her throat, and she swallowed heavily before flipping the switch and letting the elevator reach the floor. She stepped out before Jethro could say anything more, and then she'd rounded the corner before he could even blink.

He sighed heavily, anger swirling through him. Why was talking to him so damn hard for Jenny? He just didn't understand it; he didn't understand why being alone with him and why telling him what was wrong was such a problem for Jenny.

And he was getting sick of her avoidance of the issues.

He was intent on getting it out of her.

* * *

Jenny tried to control her breathing as she walked as far away from the elevator as fast as she possibly could.

Why was this happening now? Why did he have to choose _right now_ to care?

Tears sprang to her eyes even though she fought against them, and she ducked into a corner, desperately trying to get her emotions under control. She could _not_ fall apart; she could _not_ let her emotions get away from her, especially not out here, in the middle of the building.

It took her a few minutes, but finally she was able to compose herself, and she took a deep breath before stepping out of the corner and finding her way back to the break room, incredibly grateful that Jethro was no longer there. She made her coffee quickly and silently before making her way back upstairs and into her office.

She'd only just sat back down behind her desk when her intercom buzzed.

"Director, Agent Gibbs sent up Maddie Tyler-apparently she needs to go over her testimony, and their team just caught a case," Cynthia sounded worried, as though she didn't know what her boss's reaction would be. Jenny pressed the button, mentally preparing herself for what this could lead to.

"Send her in Cynthia-and please hold all my calls except for SecNav," Jenny said, and after her assistant's confirmation, she rose from her seat and headed for the door, opening it just as Maddie reached it. "Hello Maddie."

"Hello Director Shepard," Maddie said, stepping into her office with a nervous half-smile. Jenny closed the door behind her and led the younger girl over to the conference table, her file in hand.

"How are you this morning Maddie?" Jenny asked, settling into the chair at the head of the table while Maddie sat in the chair on her right side.

"I'm okay, I guess," Maddie replied, shrugging her shoulders slightly, one shoulder jumping higher than the other. "I'll just be glad when this is over."

"I'm sure you will be," Jenny said, an almost-uncomfortable smile on her face. "Have you gone over your testimony at all yet?"

"Once, with Officer David," Maddie replied, her hands tugging on her sleeves. Jenny swallowed, the flashback crashing over her before she could stop it.

"_Now, Jenny, you know that you're going to have to say some things that may make you uncomfortable, right?"_

_Seventeen year old Jenny Shepard sat in the police station interview room with the Assistant District Attorney, Alexandra Cabot. The woman was tall, thin, and blonde, thin glasses perched on the end of her nose, her clear blue eyes reflected through the lenses. She was kind, Jenny had come to learn in the days leading up to the trial, but she also wanted to win._

_Jenny tugged on the sleeves of her thick, green cotton shirt, hiding the new bandages she'd put on only this morning after spending a good hour in the bathroom yesterday with a razor. She swallowed, looking anywhere but Alex._

"_Yes," she answered quietly, nodding. She picked at a fingernail, her eyes locked onto her hands._

"_Jenny, you can do this," Alex said, reaching over and touching Jenny's hand gently, not really noticing when Jenny jumped, her nervousness and fear clear in her body language. "You just have to get through this and then you and Lizzie won't have to worry about Bobby ever again."_

_Jenny's fingers tugged at her sleeves again; she bit her lip as she nodded. She just wanted this all to end; she wanted to stop seeing Lizzie crying, and her dad's worry, and the hesitancy with which everyone regarded her with._

_She just wanted to watch Bobby burn._

"Director Shepard?"

Jenny was brought from the memory by Maddie's concerned voice, and she shook herself slightly, clearing her throat.

"Sorry…I was distracted," Jenny said, trying to cover up how shaken she felt inside. Maddie seemed to accept her answer-probably because she had enough of her own problems; she didn't need to worry about Jenny's issues too. "So you know what the basis of your testimony will be, then?"

"Yes," Maddie said, nodding.

"Well, then, let's start from the top," Jenny said. Maddie tensed, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Her fingers were white, they were clasped together so tightly, her veins bright blue against her pale white skin.

Maddie's review of what happened was concise and to the point, but Jenny still had to fight against the memories that threatened to bog her down. Hearing about what Rudi had done to her- the torture he'd inflicted, the feelings he'd aroused- was like listening to Lizzie all over again.

Finally, they were finished, and both Jenny and Maddie breathed a sigh of relief when Jenny closed the file.

"The trial is set to start tomorrow, and you'll need to be at the courthouse at eight," Jenny told Maddie, who nodded. "You'll be able to get there yourself? Or do you need someone to pick you up?"

"No, I'll be able to get there myself," Maddie said, shaking her head. "Is there anything else?"

"No, I think we're done," Jenny said, standing up and straightening her khakis. Maddie stood as well, folding her arms over her chest, her shirt pulled tight over her swelling abdomen, and Jenny swallowed hard, pushing back the memories.

"So I can go?" Maddie asked, clearing her throat slightly and shifting her weight, and Jenny wondered if the girl could feel the uncomfortable Jenny assumed she must be radiating.

"Yes, of course," Jenny said, heading towards the door. She had almost reached it when she stopped, turning back towards Maddie. "Would you like to go to lunch?"

Maddie looked startled; Jenny assumed that she didn't go out much, and she didn't have much interaction with other people. She had to stop herself from juvenilely crossing her fingers behind her back; if this could stop Maddie from cutting for just one day-not even a day, even if it was just an hour-then Jenny might be able to actually sleep tonight.

"Well…are you sure you have time?" Maddie asked, biting her lip. Jenny softened, nodding her head.

"Come on. Let me buy you lunch," she said, going over to her desk and grabbing her coat and purse. Maddie nodded, a small smile touching her face.

Jenny relaxed, following Maddie out of the office, stopping briefly to talk with Cynthia and tell her what her plans were. They walked across the catwalk and Jenny glanced down briefly, her eyes locking in with Jethro's for the briefest moment before she looked away, continuing with Maddie to the elevator.

She couldn't shake the hurt she'd seen in his eyes.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews! :) I'm back from my France adventure, and now it's time to get some writing done. This chapter was…difficult-and today, you get two chapters at once, because I've had Chapter 22 written since December.

And a special birthday shout-out to AliyahNCIS-Happy Birthday hun!

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs.

"_The secrets I keep are tearing me up inside, I try to hide and then I wonder why, why I'm still running when I know there's no escaping," –'Undone', FFH [I love this song, and I have to thank Evelyn for making me that burned CD with it on. Never would have heard it without her.]_

* * *

The next morning, Jenny stood with Ziva outside the courthouse, waiting for Maddie. They were silent, but they understood that nothing needed to be said at the moment.

Jethro, Tony, and Tim were at the agency, working diligently on the case they'd been handed yesterday, but Ziva had been spared to accompany Jenny to the trial. Jenny hadn't faced Jethro since the elevator the previous day, and she had no desire to. Things were so complicated; she just wanted this all to be over.

Breathing out a sigh, she finally caught sight of Maddie walking up the stone steps. The young woman had on khaki pants and a loose floral top, simple white cloth sneakers on her feet. She looked uncomfortable, and pale. Walking up to her, Jenny frowned in concern.

"Maddie, are you alright?"

"Just…morning sickness," Maddie told her, and Jenny cringed slightly, nodding. That explained why Maddie looked like she was about to throw up again.

"Are you going to be okay to sit in the court room?"

"I should be fine…I think I just need some water," Maddie said, and Jenny nodded again, motioning for Ziva to lead Maddie into the courthouse and get her something to drink.

Maddie's words sent memories of Lizzie through her mind, and she swallowed hard, trying to push them out of her brain. She could not let her thoughts dwell on her best friend, not today, not right now. Maybe later, when she was alone and she could let herself fall into the memories she'd tried to repress for years.

Later, when she could cry.

Shaking herself, she followed Maddie and Ziva up the stairs into the courthouse, the cool air from the building hitting her warm skin. Ziva found Maddie a seat near the door to where the trial was to start soon, and then went to find her some water. Jenny stood near Maddie's chair, tapping her foot lightly against the ground.

"Thank you, Director Shepard, for coming," Maddie said, her quiet voice startling Jenny slightly. "It means a lot that you're here."

"Of course Maddie," Jenny said, letting a slight smile touch her lips. She swallowed, and was about to try to say something supportive when Ziva came back, a cup of water in hand. Maddie took it gratefully, murmuring her thanks before taking a sip, nearly draining the cup.

Only moments later, the JAG attorney came out, and upon seeing Maddie, brought her into the courtroom. Jenny and Ziva followed, settling into chairs that were in easy view of the box where Maddie would be sitting.

There was a series of legal proceedings that occurred before the trial began, and then prosecution called Maddie to the stand. The young woman looked so small compared to the large witness' stand, and her nervousness made her even smaller. Jenny swallowed, her heart going out to the girl.

The prosecutions questions were easy, simple, and to the point. Questions about what she'd been going to college for, the events leading up the rape. Then, the hard questions, about what had happened. Maddie held her head up like a champ-her answers were delivered with almost no hesitation, and she was able to make eye contact when she answered a few of the questions.

Then, it was the defense's turn, and Jenny held her breath as the obviously high-priced defense attorney strode into the center of the room, his arms folded behind his back as he started to pace.

"So, Maddie, you claim this man raped you," he said, turning slightly to look at her. She nodded, her hands folded tightly in her lap. "And you're now carrying his child because of that rape."

"That's right," Maddie answered, and Jenny could tell that the nervousness was back full force.

"You claim he forced himself upon you eight times, and that you screamed, and yet your neighbors heard nothing at. No sounds," the lawyer continued, and Maddie paled, her hands twitching in her lap.

"He hit me, if I screamed. I only made a sound the first time, because he-he said that if I-I learned my lesson, he wouldn't hit me anymore. He said he'd…reward me, if I was a good girl," Maddie replied, her voice dropping off in volume towards the end of her statement. The shame was apparent; now, she couldn't even lift her eyes from her hands. "So no one would have been able to hear anything."

"I see," the lawyer said, his displeasure obvious. "So, you thought of what he did to you as a reward."

"Objection, those words are not the witness', they are a quotation from her attacker," the JAG attorney said, standing up.

"Withdrawn," the lawyer said, his frown beginning to deepen. But Maddie had already been affected; her face was white as a sheet, her eyes wide and scared. "Had you previously had sex with Haas before this occurred?"

"We'd…fooled around, but no, we'd never had sex, or anything like it," Maddie answered, her voice barely above a whisper. The damage from the badgering had already set in; any and all confidence she'd previously had had been shattered by the questions and comments of the defense lawyer.

Jenny didn't know how she could sit through another hour of questioning.

* * *

When court let out, Jenny and Ziva met Maddie outside on the steps. She looked obviously shaken; she was unfocused and unsteady, almost knocking into people and looking as though she was about to collapse.

"Maddie, are you alright?" Jenny asked, concern in her voice as she watched the girl sway slightly.

"I just…need to go home, and lie down," she answered, her voice sounding far away and strange. "I'm really tired."

"I'll drive you home," Jenny said, shaking her head when Maddie tried to refuse. "I won't take no for an answer."

"Alright," Maddie gave in, obviously without the energy to argue. Jenny nodded to Ziva, and together they walked to Jenny's town car. Once inside, Maddie gave Jenny's driver the address, and then they were driving through DC. Maddie was silent as she stared out the window, her eyes following the whizzing buildings. Jenny looked at Ziva, and they held a silent conversation, their eyes able to say everything they couldn't out loud. They arrived at Maddie's apartment about ten minutes later, and Maddie startled when the car stopped, obviously not expecting it.

"Thank you, Director Shepard," she said softly, opening the door. "Thank you for the ride."

"It was no problem Maddie," Jenny replied, nodding to the younger woman. "I'll see you tomorrow for the next round."

"Of course," Maddie said, and there was an odd flash in her eyes that Jenny couldn't interpret. Maddie nodded to Ziva before closing the door and walking slowly to her front door, unlocking it with her key and stepping inside without looking back.

"Something is not right," Ziva said, shaking her head as Melvin started back towards headquarters.

"Ziva, that girl went through Hell today," Jenny told her, shaking her head. "Testifying is the most terrifying experience in the world. She's probably curling up in a ball in bed, completely exhausted."

"I hope you are right. We will see her tomorrow, at least."

Ziva was right…right?

* * *

When Maddie didn't show up to court the next morning, Jenny realized that Ziva may have been right about there being more to Maddie's silence than just exhaustion.

Urging Melvin to drive faster, her heart was in her throat the entire ride. Stepping out of the car the second it was stopped, she strode up to the front door and found it unlocked. Pushing inside, she scanned the room, finding no evidence of a struggle, so she just assumed Maddie had overslept.

She walked into the bedroom, and then she gasped at the sight in front of her.

Maddie was sprawled out on her back in the middle of her bed, an empty glass near her hand, and a bottle of pills had spilled onto the bedspread. Her arms were covered in cuts and dried blood, but a deeper cut near her elbow still leaked the blood, the crimson liquid spilling out onto the white bed sheets.

Jenny swallowed hard as she came to Maddie's side, her fingers pushing into the younger woman's neck, inexplicable relief filling her when she found the weak, thready pulse. Pulling out her cell, she dialed 911, relieved to hear they had an ambulance nearby.

The next call she had to make would not be as easy-bracing herself, she dialed the familiar number and waited, listening to the ringing. Then, he picked up, his voice low and gruff, and her knees went weak all over again.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Jethro, Maddie tried to commit suicide," Jenny said bluntly, her emotions having left her as her brain tried to wrap itself around the fact. She heard his sharp intake of breath, and then there was a pause. "The EMTs are on their way."

"Where're they taking her?"

"Mercy West," she replied, slight relief blooming in her chest when the EMTs finally arrived in the scene, and she stepped out of their way as they brought the stretcher into the room.

"I'll meet you there," he said simply before hanging up, and she sighed out a deep breath before slipping her phone back into her pocket.

The EMTs brought Maddie out to the ambulance and Jenny followed, settling into the back of the vehicle after they settled Maddie into it. Maddie was still unconscious; her chest moved with the rhythmic pumps the EMT gave her manually. Another EMT examined her arms, probing the still-bleeding wounds before looking at the pill bottle that had been near Maddie on the bed.

"Did you know she was taking Ambien?" the man asked, his brown eyes studying her intently as he waited for her answer.

"She's been having trouble sleeping…she got a prescription," Jenny answered, her voice sticking in her throat. "Will…will the baby be okay?"

"We can't be certain about anything until we get her stable again," the EMT told her, his eyes scanning her up and down for the first time, taking in her expensive-looking suit and her four inch high heels. "What's your relation to…?"

"Maddie Tyler," Jenny informed him, catching his nod. "And she's a friend."

"Do you know any relevant medical history?"

"She's been harming herself for about two months, after she was raped," Jenny said, watching as the woman EMT who was keeping Maddie breathing gasped quietly. "She's now pregnant, and has been taking sleeping pills. Her father died of a heart attack a few years ago. That's about all I can tell you."

"Well, it's a start," the man said, swallowing hard. "We should arrive in about two minutes. Is there anyone else we should inform?"

"The only other person who's close to her is on his way," Jenny replied, her mind flashing briefly to Jethro, and she wondered what was going through his mind.

Probably the same thing that had gone through her father's after he'd called the ambulance when he'd discovered her, twenty four years ago.

When they arrived at the hospital, Jenny slipped out and waited for them, and after they brought her into the ER, she slipped into a chair in the waiting room, her phone in her hands. She'd only been sitting for about ten minutes when she heard Jethro calling her name; it sounded as though he was talking to her through water.

"Jen?"

She looked up, her head heavy and hard to move. Jethro's face swam in front of her; she frowned, trying to get her eyes to focus. Suddenly everything was crystal clear, and his concerned face hung over her.

"Jen, you okay?"

"Jethro, I just found that girl half dead in her bedroom. No, I am not okay," Jenny responded, her tone slightly biting. "They brought her back so that they could admit her and start her on fluids, and assess the damage."

"Was she conscious?"

"No, she was out when I found her, and she didn't wake at all on the ride over," Jenny replied, shaking her head. Jethro sank into the chair next to her, his hand in his hands and his elbows digging into his knees. "It's bad. Her arms were torn up from the razor, and she took almost half a bottle of Ambien."

"Why?" Jethro asked, his voice hoarse. "Why would she do that?"

"Because she's in pain, Jethro," Jenny answered, her voice breaking. "Because that girl is living an absolute nightmare, and she can't handle the emotional pain she is suffering through every day. The child of her rapist is growing inside of her, and that is a reminder of everything she went through. She tries to handle the pain by cutting, and that just wasn't enough this time. She wanted it to end; she wanted to finally find peace."

"Why do you know so much about this?" Jethro asked, his deep blue eyes unreadable as they searched her face. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and then the dam broke.

"Because that used to be me. I was the girl with cut up forearms because I didn't know any other way to make all the hurting stop. Because pain was my best friend for a long time; pain was the only thing I wanted when I was a teenager. Bobby would hit me, and I'd make another line on my arm. And then Lizzie killed herself after what Bobby did, and I just wanted it all to end."

Her words were met with silence; his eyes still unreadable as he swallowed. Her chest heaved with the effort of giving out her past, and that was only the half of it. Her hand curled into a fist, the nails biting into the skin of her palm. Jethro opened his mouth to say something, but then a doctor came out and interrupted them.

"We'll be keeping Maddie on a 72 hour psyche hold, and will be continuing to give her fluids. We pumped her stomach; the pills hadn't had nearly enough time to dissolve, so she should be able to make a full recovery. It's too soon to tell about the baby; it's still too early in development," the tall, thin blonde doctor told them, a clipboard in hand. "You're lucky you found her when you did; some of those cuts were pretty severe."

"So she'll be here for the next three days?" Jenny asked, clearing her throat. The doctor nodded, shifting her weight from her left to her right side.

"She'll be released then, unless she decides to continue treatment, under her own consent."

"Alright. We'll come back then," Jenny said, and the doctor nodded quickly before walking away; she obviously had other patients and people to worry about.

"Why can't we see her?" Jethro asked, folding his arms and staring at her, the information obviously still running through his brain.

"Because for 72 hours, Maddie isn't allowed to see anyone but hospital staff," Jenny answered, turning to walk outside. Melvin had brought her car and then hitched a ride back, per her request, and now all she wanted was to go home. She was giving up the fight, and falling back on the only comfort she could use right now.

There was a new pack of razors in her bathroom cabinet.

"Why do you know that?" Jethro asked, pulling her from her thoughts. For some reason, his question angered her, and she turned, her blood boiling.

"Because twenty four years ago, I was in this same hospital, under almost identical circumstances. I was in a hospital bed for three days, with no one but a nurse named Debbie visiting me, because I tried to end my life. Now if you're done fucking nitpicking my life, I'm leaving," Jenny snapped before turning on her heel and walking away, ignoring him.

He didn't understand, and he never would.

All she wanted now was the feel of the blade on her skin; the rush of adrenaline; the blood running down her arm, staining her skin.

And all that was only a ten minute drive away.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: This chapter is _raw_. Intense, and just plain _raw_.

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs.

"_I feel alone here and cold here, though I don't want to die, but the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside," –"Cut", Plumb_

* * *

It was happening all over again.

She'd gotten too close, she'd let herself fall into it again. She'd let Maddie worm her way into her heart, and now she lay in a hospital bed, fighting for a reason to live.

Her hands shook as she sat in her car, her fingers trembling against the steering wheel. She closed her eyes, clenching her fingers together in an attempt to calm down and regain control. There was no way she could drive with her thoughts as confused and jumbled as they were. She took a deep breath through her nose, calming her racing heart to a regular rhythm.

Opening her eyes, she pushed the key into the ignition, taking another deep breath as she turned on the car. Pushing the gearshift into drive, she eased the car out of the parking space, leaving the hospital parking lot, never noticing the truck that pulled out right after her.

* * *

She arrived at her house after speeding through the route at twice the legal speed. She parked the car and pulled the key out of the ignition. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, and she almost dropped the keys in her instability. She got out of the car and slammed the door, forcing herself not to sprint to her front door. Thanking God that her front door was unlocked, she pushed into her house, slamming the door behind her again, her head starting to swim.

She started towards hers stairs and tripped, her heels snagging on the front rug. She cursed, catching herself on the stair rail. She slipped off her heels, throwing them as far away from her as she could. She couldn't even stand the sight of them anymore.

She stumbled up the stairs, barely able to stand. She tripped her way to her bedroom, suddenly exhausted.

She sank to the ground in her room, her legs curled under her as she kneeled by her bed, fingers intertwining in her thick carpet, her tears close to the surface. She pressed her face into the ground, the rough carpet fibers rubbing her face raw, but she couldn't get enough of the pain. Repressed tears filled her chest, making it tight.

She was lightheaded; oxygen didn't seem to be reaching her brain. She was dizzy, her thoughts were racing, and suddenly, her vision went tunnel-like towards the bathroom.

It was all she could see.

It was like she was in a daze, a dream. She stood slowly, wobbling slightly. She tumbled into her nightstand, the sharp wooden edge grazing her thigh through her thin cotton yoga pants.

The pain barely registered in her brain.

She stumbled into the bathroom, trailing her hand on the wall to remain upright. She walked to the cabinet near the sink, yanking it open as she searched for the one thing that could bring her comfort now.

The blades of the daisy yellow razor called to her, their deliciously smooth voice singing her name, telling her that just one cut would make everything better, one cut would make her problems go away, just one cut and she'd be to Heaven and back, she'd feel so good she could scream.

She grasped its thin handle in her right hand, closing the cabinet door as she stared at the blade of the razor. _Just one cut_, she promised herself, _just one cut and then you'll stop. It'll just feel so good to do it once, come on Jenny, you know how good it feels. Just one cut…_

"Just one cut and it'll all go away," she whispered, looking up at the mirror once.

It was a mistake.

She didn't even recognize herself. Her eyes were wild; glazed and yet vibrant, anticipation filling the olive green irises.

She looked insane.

She turned away, going into the bedroom, the razor still clutched tightly in her hand. She would do this with no mirrors to see herself.

She sank to her knees in the middle of the room, her breathing quickening. She slipped her sweater off, her pale, bare arms exposed.

Jenny let herself look at the scars that were there for a few moments, remembering. She touched some of them gently, closing her eyes as she remembered doing each carefully. There were so many. Some were from events that had forever changed her life. Some were from minute things that had merely added fuel to the fire.

The most prominent scar caught her eye as it skimmed over her forearms; in the crease near her left elbow was a thick scar, because she had cut it multiple times. The first time had been when Bobby had first struck her; she shuddered as her body remembered the stinging slap he'd delivered to her cheek. Then, the events of her lifetime had found their way carved into her arms; Lizzie's suicide, her father's suicide, leaving Jethro, then Jethro leaving…the list went on and on, and Jenny shivered at the memories of blood washing over her skin filled her brain, making it the only thing she could think about.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to organize her jumbled thoughts. Then, her hand flexed, remembering the razor. Her eyes flew open, her brain suddenly focused.

She uncapped the razor, her body quivering as it anticipated the delicious slice of the blade through her skin. Her brain waited for the crimson that would flow down her arms, awaited the heat of the beautiful pain that the blade would bring. She broke the blade out of its plastic frame with the scissors she'd grabbed, her fingers stroking along the smooth edge, oh-so-close to that sharp edge after it had been freed from the plastic; the edge that would bring her the hot, delicious comfort of pain that she truly needed. Of a pain that no one else could appreciate, that no one else could understand, least of all Jethro. He would never understand what drove her to a knife, to a blade, and she didn't even care anymore. All she wanted was to feel the sting, to feel something.

She lowered the razor blade slowly, temptingly. It was so close; she could just feel the burn…

"Jen."

She froze, caught. Jethro's deep voice permeated the fog swirling through her brain, registering it as not a threat, but a friend.

And yet she still felt like the prey, and he the hunter.

"Jenny, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice soft and lulling, trying to tempt her.

She wouldn't fall for it.

"Jenny, I won't hurt you, I promise. I just want you to let go of the blade. Please, Jenny, do it for me," he asked, his voice dropping to just a whisper. She frowned, confused, stuck. She wanted to do this for him, she wanted to do what he said, but she needed the comfort the blade could bring, the comfort that Jethro's arms couldn't give, not this time.

Her fingers remained rigid around the razor, her posture unsure and hesitant, angled away from him still. Could she really let go?

Jethro could tell she wasn't looking at him, and he stepped forward slowly, staying in her blind spot. Carefully, quietly, slowly, he reached around, and gripped her wrist tightly on the pressure point, not letting her do this to herself. She spun her head to look up at him, fear and pain and anger and hurt and confusion in her beautiful green eyes. It was completely silent for a moment before Jenny's eyes filled with tears as she released the blade; as she started to sob in the middle of the room, sinking further into the carpet and burying her face in her hands.

It was so hard to see a woman who was normally so confident, so poised, falling apart in front of him. Her brave front, her stonewall face, was gone, completely shattered.

He'd never seen her so vulnerable.

He didn't know what to do. He held the razor blade and plastic frame in his hand, the horrible, poisonous blade and its shell, and he looked at them in complete and utter disgust. He threw the two violently, listening to the crunch the plastic made when it smacked into the wall. Jenny didn't seem to hear it; she continued to sob, her pain evident.

His hands shook and he walked to Jenny slowly, sinking back down next to her, hesitantly touching her back. She shrunk away from his touch, another sob tearing through her lips at the hurt that must have registered on his face.

She was hurting the man she loved. She was ruining everything she touched. She couldn't even stand to have Jethro touch her.

She sobbed again, his hurt, anguished face becoming obscured by tears. She felt him stand, leaving her, his warmth disappearing. _No Jethro, please, please, stay, don't leave me alone with these demons and these thoughts please, please if you really love me stay._

_I can't do this, I can't watch her fall apart. I'm not strong enough,_ Jethro thought, gritting his teeth, his hands rigid at his sides as he stared at the door, conflicted. He startled at her soft, terrified voice, not able to turn around to face her just yet.

"Please Jethro," she whispered, tears clear in her voice, and he knew her emerald eyes would be still glistening with them, even though his back was to her. "Please stay with me. I don't want to be alone tonight. I can't Jethro, please, stay. Please, for me."

He didn't know.

He didn't think he could stay with her.

He was so unsure.

"Please Jethro. I'm so scared. Please don't leave me alone tonight," she whispered, and his heart broke at the completely lost quality her tone had. "Please, I need you to keep me safe tonight."

It was decided. He was staying.

He took a deep breath, turning around to face her. His heart broke even further at how broken and hurt her face looked; there were tear tracks glistening on her cheeks, and her normally beautiful green eyes were a sad olive color, filled with too many emotions to name.

She looked so miserable.

"What…what can I do Jen? How can I help?" he asked desperately, his voice quiet as he bent his head to meet her gaze, touching her cheek gently, relaxing fractionally when she didn't shrink away this time.

"Just…please can you just hold me? Please…please just keep me safe," she whispered, tears filling her throat as she reached for him, inexplicable warmth filling her when he took her into his embrace, holding her close. "Please just keep me safe."

"Oh Jenny…I'll do everything to keep you safe," Jethro whispered, holding her close, wishing he could just take her inside of him and take her pain away. "I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

"Promise?" she whispered, and her blatant fear that he'd say no brought tears to his eyes.

"I promise Jen, forever and always."

* * *

They stood together for a long time; Jethro just held her tight, wanting nothing more than to make her hurting go away. She cried softly against his chest, her fingers gripping his shirt as her tears stained the fabric of his t-shirt.

His fingers stroked along her back, bringing a comfort she hadn't felt since her father. She looked up at him, one hand going up to cup his cheek gently. He looked down at her, tilting his face into her palm, sighing quietly at her touch. She brushed her fingertips across his face, relearning how he felt, what his skin was like under her fingers.

"Thank you," she whispered, running her hand through his hair gently, the silver strands tickling her palm. "Thank you for coming, for staying, for everything."

"I'd do anything for you Jenny," he said softly, tightening his grip on her, bringing her closer to him. "Anything."

"You have no idea how much that helps," she said, tears starting to glisten in the corners of her eyes again. Jethro reached one hand up and brushed them away, his hand lingering in her hair, the soft crimson strands flowing through his fingers. For a moment, it reminded him of what could have happened if he'd come too late.

And the thought scared him to no end.

Instead of dwelling on what could have been, he turned back to Jenny, touching her cheek gently. Her eyes closed as he touched her, turning herself into him as he relearned his way around her skin.

He wanted desperately to kiss her; it was irrational, he knew, but the way she looked and felt in his arms had never felt so right. He'd restrain himself, though, because obviously now was not the time to bring up past hurts and old pain. Instead he'd settle on holding her, just enjoying the way her body still fit with his.

"Jethro?" Jenny asked quietly, hands still resting gently on his chest as she looked up at him. "Will you…could you just hold me, while I fell asleep? You…you don't have to stay, but I…I wish you would."

"Jenny, of course I'll stay. I promised I'd keep you safe, and I don't break my promises," Jethro said, touching her cheek again. "But Jen…I think we should do something first."

"Like what?" she asked, confused.

"I think we need to throw them out," he said hesitantly, waiting for her reaction. She still looked confused for a moment before understanding filled her face, and she remained still for a moment, obviously thinking.

"Okay," she whispered, eyes closed. "Okay. But…could you help me? I…I don't entirely trust myself."

"Of course I'll help Jenny," he said, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers, lending her his strength. She took a deep breath, squeezing his fingers tightly before walking into the bathroom, taking the garbage can and handing it to him before then walking over to the cabinet.

She took the package of razors out, hands shaking as she brought them over to him. She looked up at him and their gazes locked for a moment. She seemed to draw strength from him; she threw the package out with an almost triumphant look in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she looked better than before, almost like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. He set the garbage can down and opened his arms; it only took her a second to step into his embrace, letting him hug her to his chest.

One step forward.

"Jen, is that…it?" Jethro asked slowly, his tone unsure. She blinked, confused, before understanding.

"That's all I would use. Only if it was really bad would I look for something else. And…I'm hoping you'll be there when it's really bad," Jenny said, the end of her statement becoming quiet as she lowered her gaze. Jethro tilted her chin up with his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Jen, I will be here for everything. I made you a promise Jen. I won't fail you," he said, his tone firm enough so that she knew he was serious, but also gentle enough so that she knew he was doing it because he cared about her.

"Thank you," she said, hugging him tighter to her. "Thank you so much, Jethro."

There were no words to describe how grateful she was to him.

"Jen, you look like you're about to fall over," Jethro said, looking at her with concern. She swayed slightly, and he gripped her bare forearms to steady her.

The reaction was instantaneous.

She froze, her body stiffening. Jethro immediately let go of her arms, completely bewildered as to what was going on. She swallowed heavily, closing her eyes as her hands began to shake violently, her entire body quaking. Jethro had no idea what was happening.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a few very long minutes, having finally composed herself and stopped the shaking. "It's just, after everything that's happened today…touching the scars is too much. I'm so sorry Jethro."

"Jenny, you don't have to apologize. I forgot, for a moment. Are…are you okay?" he asked, feeling pained. He should have remembered. Could he this without hurting her? Could he remember how fragile she was, how breakable she was right now? Could he keep her safe from not only herself, but from him as well?

"I'll be fine. I just…I need to have a long-sleeved shirt on, for tonight at least. Maybe…maybe someday I'll be able to show them to you for what they really are and what they mean to me, but not tonight. Not tonight," Jenny said, crossing her arms over her chest tightly, taking a deep breath as she looked up at him, her eyes begging him to understand. And he did understand; he was not going to push her. If she wanted to share, it was entirely up to her. "I'm going to get a shirt."

"I'll be there in a minute," Jethro said, nodding to her as his thoughts turned elsewhere. She exited the bathroom quietly, leaving him alone.

He turned toward the mirror, taking deep breaths.

He _could_ do this.

He _had_ to do this.

He _would_ keep Jenny safe.

He would _not_ fail her.

Splashing some cold water on his face, he looked in the mirror once more, proud to see the determined glint in his eyes that he wanted. He grabbed a towel and dried his face, taking another deep breath before turning to walk back into the bedroom where Jenny was.

He was ready for whatever challenges this night could bring.

Jenny grabbed the first long-sleeve shirt she could find; a plain thermal shirt that was a forest green color made of thick cotton. Not the sexiest shirt she could have picked, but at least it would keep her warm. And it would keep the scars covered.

She hated that now she couldn't even stand to have Jethro touch her bare arms. In Paris, he hadn't seemed to care about the scars. She was sure he'd noticed, but he hadn't asked questions. Now she knew it was because he had his own past. If he wasn't telling her everything, why would he push her to reveal her secrets and her past?

She was glad he was here. She knew that without him, she'd most likely have five more cuts on each arm, all one inch apart, all one and a half inches long, all the way up each forearm. She would have done her usual ritual; she would have used the burning antiseptic on the open cuts before blotting them all with damp tissues, and then covered the freshly cleaned cuts with multiple band-aids, to be taken off and replaced in the morning. Then, everything would have been flushed, leaving no trace behind at all.

Not that there was anyone in her house to hide anything from anymore.

Even though she lived alone, her instincts from years of hiding what she did to herself told her she needed to be secretive; she needed to protect herself, even from the ones that cared the most. Especially from the ones that cared the most.

Even though what she had been doing to herself had been slowly killing her from the inside out.

She could never thank Jethro enough for stopping her; for being there, for helping. For caring.

For caring enough about her to stop her from giving in to the destructive behavior that had almost destroyed the last time she turned to it.

She turned at the sound of a throat clearing in the bathroom doorway, offering Jethro a tiny smile before turning towards the bed. As she turned though, she caught a flash of yellow in the corner of her eye, by the wall. Was it the razor?

She walked over to it, finding the mangled yellow shell on the carpeted ground near the wall. She frowned, confused.

"Uh…that was me, Jen," Jethro said behind her after clearing his throat, sounding a tad sheepish. "I, uh, got a little…angry."

"Understandable," Jenny murmured, picking up the broken shell and the razor blade carefully; the blade that had almost broken her two year cut-free streak, and walked into the bathroom, disposing of the two objects. She walked back into the bedroom, taking a deep breath. "You really don't have to stay if…if you don't want to."

"Jen, I want to. I want to help," Jethro said, walking over to her and touching her cheek gently. She looked up at him, the barest trace of a smile ghosting her lips.

"I still don't understand why you want to, but thank you," she said. Jethro frowned, wanting desperately for her to understand. Impulsively, he pulled her closer by the waist, and lowered his head to hers, his lips pressing against hers.

Before she even knew what was happening, he was kissing her. It was a soft, sweet kiss, nothing like the kiss that had started the disaster in her office only last week. It lasted a few moments before he pulled away, leaving her breathless. He tucked her hair behind her ear, his face still close to hers, his warm breath washing over her skin and leaving an exhilarated shiver in its wake.

"Do you understand now?" he asked, a tad breathless himself as his eyes searched hers, waiting for an answer.

"Are you sure you want to get into this Jethro?" Jenny asked, hesitation clear in her eyes. "I'm really screwed up. I'm really, really screwed up."

"I don't care how screwed up you are Jen," Jethro replied, shaking his head. "I lost you twice; I can't do it a third time."

"I don't want to get lost again," Jenny said, shaking her head as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes again. Jethro's hand came up to her cheek, his fingers tenderly brushing away the tears that fell.

"You won't get lost this time. We're not going anywhere Jenny. I promise," he whispered, his eyes telling her how much he meant it. She sighed, nodding.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him. She pulled him over to the bed, having him help her fold back the covers. "Do you remember which side is yours?"

"How could I forget Jen?" Jethro asked, throwing her a smile. She laughed softly, climbing under the covers after flicking the lights off. Jethro pulled her into his chest, his arms around her waist, hugging her to him. She snuggled into his embrace, turning into him so that her hands rested on his chest and her face was under his chin. "Goodnight Jenny."

"Goodnight Jethro," Jenny whispered, reaching up and kissing him once more, her lips soft against his, hoping to seal his kiss in. Tonight, the dreams could be bad- she wanted something that would remind her that real life wasn't as bad as it seemed. She just wanted to feel his kiss on her lips when the dreams came. Because sometimes, the memories that made the dreams were too much to bear. She didn't want that, not tonight. Not when she'd just found him again, this time to stay, hopefully for a long time. "Maybe tonight I won't have nightmares."

He hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to her hair as he prayed that tonight he could keep the inevitable nightmares away.

If only he knew.

* * *

"_This is the last night you'll spend alone, look me in the eyes so I know you know…I'll hold you in my arms and I won't let go," -'The Last Night', Skillet_

A/N: The end got fluffier than I intended. Either way, not every attempt is stopped by someone that cares. Please keep that in mind, and know that everything is not going to be sunshine and roses for them. Not even close.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thank you for the reviews-I appreciate all of them. This will be the only update for the next week and a half- AP exams are starting!

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_Still can't lay me down to sleep, if I die before I wake, I know the Lord my soul won't take," –'Barton Hollow', The Civil Wars [This is my new favorite band, even though they aren't that well known. Their stuff is worth checking out.]_

* * *

"_Jenny!"_

_She tried to run, but he was too fast, too strong. He caught her as she reached the garage door, and her hand had just touched the handle when he gripped her arm. He threw her against the wall, one hand around her throat and the other shoving her hip into the wall._

_Bobby's brown eyes smoldered with rage, his face contorting in his anger. He looked dangerous-more dangerous than Jenny had ever seen. She quivered, struggling to breathe as his hand cut off her airway._

"_Bobby-can't-breathe," she choked out, starting to see spots. It seemed like Bobby was almost reluctant to loosen his grip, but he did, and Jenny felt the relief bloom as oxygen filled her lungs again._

"_Don't you dare think you can run from me Jen," Bobby growled, shoving her back against the wall, her shoulder hitting a nail sticking out in the wall. She cried out in pain, tears starting to run down her cheeks._

"_Just please let me leave Bobby," Jenny begged, trying to reach up to touch his face, but he grabbed her wrist, throwing it back against the wall._

"_Like hell you'll leave," Bobby snarled, one of his knees shoving her legs apart and pressing himself closer to her, causing her to whimper. "Look at me Jenny."_

_She didn't think she could. It hurt too much to look into this horrible brown depths and see anything but hatred when he claimed to love her. Love shouldn't feel like this-love should be beautiful and happy. Not trapped and violated._

"_I said look at me damn it!"_

_Suddenly Bobby's warmth was gone and there was a loud shattering sound, and Jenny gasped as Bobby smashed an empty glass that had been sitting on a work bench. The glass flew into the air, and one piece grazed Jenny's bare calf, blood starting to bead along the cut. Bobby let out a roar of pain and he turned, clutching his palm. A shard of glass was embedded in his hand, blood leaking from it._

_Jenny's heart hurt for him, and she reached his side in a moment, her smaller hands gentle on his. She eased the shard out slowly, kissing the cut afterward. For a moment it was peaceful, and Jenny relaxed._

_Then the next moment, she was being dragged to his car, shoved against the back door. She gasped in shock, her heart hammering in her ears._

"_It's all your fault," Bobby whispered in her ear, menace dripping from every syllable. "Now, you can feel the pain like I do."_

_And with that, he opened the car door and stuck her hand in, slamming the door on it before she could react._

_The pain that she felt blocked out everything else; she had never felt that much pain in one blow before. She couldn't move her fingers, and when he opened the door, her stomach dropped at how mangled the fingers on her left hand looked. They were bent and becoming-swollen, the skin ripped and bloody from the door._

_Bobby's reaction was beyond predictable-it was the same after every episode, and she was numb to it now, just like everything else in her life. Just more reasons to carve lines into her arms and her belly-her new hiding place. He was laving affection on her, begging for her forgiveness-but this time was different. She couldn't move her entire left hand; her whole body felt numb, like it wasn't even hers anymore-if it had even been hers to begin with._

_She went through the motions with Bobby, accepting his offer to drive her home, taking his kiss goodbye when he reached the front of her house because she couldn't do anything else through the haze of pain her body had become. Blood dripped from her cut up hand, and yet the crimson drops looked foreign to her. He had seemed apologetic, but she didn't care anymore. She was just so damn numb._

_She walked into her house in a daze, cradling her damaged hand. Her dad was in the study, and she could see him look up when the door shut. But she couldn't find her voice-she felt smaller than small, as though all the life and will to live and energy had just been sucked out of her. But then her dad was in front of her, his green eyes worried as he touched her shoulder.  
_

"_Jenny? Jenny, sweetheart, what happened? What's wrong with your hand? Jenny-Jenny-"_

Jethro woke up to Jenny's whimpers, and she was tossing and turning, obviously deep in a dream. He tried at first to shush her, to get her back to sleep, because he knew she needed it desperately. But it soon became apparent that whatever was happening within the dream was terrifying her, and he knew he had to get her out of it.

His hands were gentle as he shook her shoulders, trying to keep her from becoming more afraid by his actions. Suddenly she gasped awake, scooting up in the bed as she shook, her eyes darting around the room. They settled on him, confusion in the green irises for only a moment before relief filled them and she threw herself at him, burying her face in his neck.

He rubbed her back as she sobbed, letting his shirt absorb her tears as she tried and failed to calm down. He could feel her heart beating through her shirt, the sound of it racing beneath her skin. He could see her pulse in her neck, the long elegant line of it in his sight range as he held her.

Slowly, her tears slowed, and she pulled her face out of his neck, her eyes red and puffy and her cheeks streaked with tears. Without a word Jethro grabbed a few tissues from her bedside table and wiped off the tears, handing her the rest so that she could blow her nose. She murmured her thanks, clearly still shaken by the nightmare-because he could only assume that it was a nightmare, from the way she was acting.

"You okay Jen?" he asked hesitantly, knowing that it wasn't the right thing to say. But he didn't know how to approach this, and so he was doing the best he could.

Jenny raised her eyes to Jethro's, and her heart softened at the look on his face. She knew he was out of his element here, and she just appreciated him trying. But the dream had shaken her-that night had been what led her to the restraining order. Her father had taken her to the ER, and while the nurses had seen the cuts on her body, they'd only bandaged and examined her hand. Bobby had broken four of her fingers, and given her deep bruising and cuts.

Her father had taken to the police station the next day and they'd filed the order, and she'd been safe, for the first time in two years. Less than a month later, Bobby was on trial for raping Lizzie.

Sighing out a shaky breath, Jenny reached for Jethro, who moved with her easily.

"Please Jethro, make me forget. Only you can make me forget," she whispered, her hand cupping his cheek as she curled herself into him, her legs tangled with his as she pressed herself closer.

Jethro let out a shaky breath; the feeling of Jenny so close to him for the first time in a long time-the right way, that is, not like her office last week-was not doing anything for the self-control he knew he needed right now. He was unsure of what she was asking-but he wanted to help her.

"How, Jenny?" he asked hoarsely, his eyes searching hers desperately.

She couldn't answer in words-she didn't have any for him. Instead, she pulled his head down and kissed him, saying with her lips everything she needed. She needed to feel loved, and cherished, and wanted-not hurt, and damaged, and scared.

She wanted to feel safe again.

Jethro returned her kiss, a wave of helplessness welling up inside of him as Jenny's emotion hit him. He wanted to help her-but what would the cost be for him?

Instead of thinking about the answer, he let himself just follow the cues she gave him; she had total control of the kiss, and where it would go. She led easily, her lips slowly becoming more and more demanding as the tension and heat rose between them.

Jenny broke the kiss when her chest felt tight, and she pressed her forehead into his, biting her lip slightly.

"Make me feel safe again," she whispered, his breath flowing over her lips as she spoke, smelling like coffee. "Please Jethro, just make me feel safe."

That was a challenge he could take up.

He pulled her to him gently, capturing her lips under his again, his kiss soft. He would make this different than in her office-this would be about more than just feeling anything. He would make her safe again-he'd promised, and he didn't break his promises.

Things started slowly, as they should.

Her hands crept over his chest, his muscles clear, even underneath his shirt. Her fingers reached the hem and she tugged it upward, letting him break the kiss to get it off. She wasn't ready for her shirt to come off just yet-instead she guided his hands to the waistband of her pants, her eyes encouraging him to start there.

He easily took the hint, being gentle as he slid the yoga pants off her body, kissing the junction of her neck and shoulder lightly. She tilted her neck sideways to allow him more access, and he kissed a path up her neck and under her chin, up over her cheek and finally reaching her lips. She opened her mouth to his easily, closing her eyes as her stomach began the familiar stir of warmth.

His pants were next, and she tossed them to the floor as she pressed closer to him, her bare legs brushing his. She could tell he wanted her shirt off, but she was glad for the fact the he was respecting her shyness about it without pushing.

Needing to do it herself, she reached for the hem of the shirt and drew it slowly over her head, leaving her in her tank top and her bra. With her arms exposed she felt more vulnerable than before, but she reminded herself that this was Jethro-she had nothing to hide from him now.

Jethro's fingers were gentle as they ran up her arms, feeling the bumps from the scars on her forearms. He knew she expected him to be repulsed, but he wasn't. Nothing about her body would ever repulse him-scars showed how strong you were, not how weak. And he was going to show her that.

Slowly, he raised her left forearm to his lips, and tenderly, he kissed his way up to the crease of her elbow, where there was a larger, thicker scar. His lips were gentle as he pressed kisses to her skin, wishing her could take away the pain that had led her to do this to herself. When he looked up at her, the tears in her eyes were not what he had been expecting.

"Jenny, honey, why are you crying?" he asked softly, framing her face in his hands as the endearment slipped out. "Are you in pain?"

"No, no," Jenny whispered, shaking her head. "I'm not in pain. No one has ever touched them like that before. Like they weren't blemishes in my skin."

"They aren't blemishes, Jen," Jethro told her, cupping her cheek. "They're badges of the pain you went through."

"They don't always feel that way," Jenny whispered back, leaning herself more fully into him, her fingers inching her tank top upwards, the pale skin of her belly becoming exposed.

Jethro took her hint and pulled it off the rest of the way, his fingers dancing along the scars that were present there as well. She closed her eyes as his mouth descended on them, kisses being pressed into her abdomen and then up to her ribs, brushing the cloth of her bra. She arched into him as his fingers went to the clasp, drawing it off of her as her fingers dipped into his boxers.

When they were both naked, Jethro tugged her underneath him, assuming a position they were familiar with. But suddenly, Jenny was trapped again, Bobby forcing himself on her again and again. Her breathing quickened, her fight or flight response kicking into overdrive.

Jethro sensed the change in her as he held his weight above her, and he paused, alarm filling him as the fear in her green eyes. He touched her cheek softly and she blinked, shaking herself slightly. Shifting them so that they were side by side, Jenny moved so that she was on top, a position that she and Bobby had never been in.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear, reaching for his hands and lacing their fingers together. "I just…it brings back too many memories tonight."

"Jen, I understand," Jethro said, kissing behind her ear softly. Jenny sighed, hovering above him for a moment before leaning down and kissing him.

Only he could make her safe now.

* * *

"_Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me, infect me with your loving, fill me with your poison," –'E.T.', Katy Perry_


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews! :) AP tests are done, and I should be able to write a little more frequently! This chapter may seem short, and not too much happens, but it's setting the stage for the ending of this story, and the beginning of 'Torn', so please bear with me.

This for Jibbsgal1, because I'm going to miss her, and just because she's awesome and gives me great ideas :)

Disclaimer: I own the plot and my OCs.

"_My power, my pleasure, my pain, baby, to me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny," –'Kiss By A Rose', Seal [I love this song. I love Seal, but this song holds a special place in my heart.]_

* * *

When Jenny awoke the next morning to faint sunlight streaming in through her curtains, confusion was only momentary when she felt a warm body pressed against her back.

Memories from the prior day washed over her-good and bad-and she closed her eyes as she remembered the way in which Jethro had made her forget. She'd forgotten about everything except him, and their love making had been the most intense, emotional thing she'd ever experienced.

She turned on her side carefully, making sure not to disturb her bed companion. Stretching out slowly, her muscles feeling sore in a good way, she studied the man still asleep next to her, breathing in and out steadily, looking peaceful.

His silver hair was tousled, from when she'd run her hands through it, and in a few places it was sticking up. The lines on his face were relaxed and not as deep as when he was in thought, or glaring at someone, and for this snapshot in time, he looked decades younger. His jaw, even in sleep, was strong, the skin taunt over the bone. And then her gaze traveled lower, running over the graying hair on his chest, his muscle, the strong shoulders, the clean cut abdominal muscles that she'd run her hands over last night.

The fact that he looked so asleep, like nothing would make him stir, gave her the courage to say what she needed to, because she knew she could never say it to his face.

"I wish I had the strength to say this when you were awake," she said softly, making sure he didn't awaken at the sound of her voice. "Because I do want you to know how much what you've done for me means. You stopped me from ruining my streak, one of the longer ones I've kept in recent years."

Jenny broke off, catching her breath as she rested her head on her hand, her elbow digging into the sheets. Jethro hadn't stirred, hadn't moved from the peaceful, steady deep breathing of sleep.

"I wish I could tell you about Lizzie, and what an amazing best friend she was to me. I wish I could tell you about Bobby, and the torture I went through for those two years with him. Maybe someday I'll be able to, maybe even introduce you to Ashley and her family. Her daughter Giselle is adorable; she almost reminds me of what our daughter would have been like, had we ever had one."

Now Jenny was quiet, her thoughts on a little girl with red hair and blue eyes, wearing a sundress and picking flowers outside. But the image was gone as quickly as it came, and she continued to look at Jethro, her stomach twisting slightly. She wished she could have enough backbone to say this to his face, but she just couldn't. She couldn't see his eyes when she told him what she'd gone through; when she explained what had driven her to cut lines into her arms.

"I cut because it was the only thing that made me feel," she said, continuing softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Bobby would hit me, and I'd make another line in my skin. After a while, it was just a routine, to the make cuts, because every day Bobby would hit me. Eventually, I barely even felt the hits anymore, because I was just so numb to everything. You asked me once how I could shut off my emotions so well. It was because that's what I did to myself for two years. And even after all these years, I still don't understand the drive to hurt that's behind an abuser. How can you tell someone you love them, then the next second be punching them? It just doesn't make sense to me, even with all those studies that explain their behavior. I'll never be able to understand what could make another person raise a hand to someone they claim to love. Then again, not much makes sense to me about those last two years of high school. Why would Lizzie not say anything about her depression, and then kill herself, leaving behind a loving family and friends? Why would she leave _me_ like that, just out of nowhere? Why would Bobby rape my best friend because he couldn't get access to me anymore?"

Jenny fell silent again as the questions sat thick in the air, and even though she knew there weren't answers to those questions, the silence still cut. But she was used to it; she almost enjoyed the pain that filled her.

Glancing at the clock, she sighed, realizing that it was time to get up if she wanted to be able to shower by herself. She slipped out of bed silently and then walked into the bathroom, closing the door without a sound.

Jethro lay in bed listening to the water running moments later, his mind whirling from what he'd just heard.

There was so much he hadn't known about Jenny's history; there was still so much he didn't know. How much pain she'd gone through when she was a teenager; how much loss she'd faced. And it killed him that she'd gone through that, and he hadn't known.

He was glad that she at least told him-even if she thought he'd been asleep. When she'd started talking, he'd kept the posture of sleep, because talking would help her. He'd learned that a long time ago-he just never applied it.

He wanted to help her; he wanted to take her pain away, as clichéd as that statement was. He didn't want to see her hurting, not the way she was. And now, he realized that this was what she had been feeling for the past few days. And he was sure his actions hadn't helped.

He sat up in bed with a groan, running a hand down his face tiredly. Taking stock of where his clothes had landed last night, he got out of bed and pulled on his boxers and his t-shirt. Sensing that Jenny wanted to be alone, he headed downstairs to find coffee, because he was desperate need of it.

He set up the maker and leaned against the counter after putting two mugs near the maker, resting his head against one of the cabinets. This felt…comfortable. He assumed that it had been like this before Mexico; it still irked him that he couldn't remember everything from before his coma. Why couldn't he remember what it had been like before the explosion?

Why couldn't he remember making Jenny happy?

Frustrated, he poured the coffee when the machine beeped, filling Jenny's mug up as well before bringing both upstairs to where he hoped that she was done showering.

Just as he entered the room Jenny opened the bathroom door, her hair damp and tucked behind her ears, a towel wrapped tightly around her body. She smiled when she saw him, her eyes brightening slightly at the coffee.

"Thank you Jethro," she said as she took the cup carefully, her warm, slightly-damp fingers brushing his, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

"Figured you'd need it," he replied with an easy shrug, and she nodded, taking a small sip.

"I do. The shower is all yours," she said, setting her mug on the table before heading for her closet. Jethro easily went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The small room smelled like her lavender body wash, the air still warm and damp, and just holding the essential feeling of 'Jenny'.

His shower wasn't very long; he wanted to be able to try to talk to Jenny a little bit-not about what he'd heard, which he was going to keep to himself until she was able to tell him herself, but about what their plans were now. Stepping out, he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist, not really wanting to change back into the clothes he'd worn over. Maybe he'd left close here, when they'd been together?

Walking into the bedroom, he found her pulling a chocolate brown sweater over her head, a pair of khaki pants already on. She turned when she heard the door, and she raised one eyebrow in question at the towel.

"Jethro, why are you still in a towel?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I'd kinda prefer not to put the same clothes back on Jen," he replied, and her eyes widened, understanding filling her. "I was wondering if you had any…"

"I have some stuff, from before," she answered his question before he'd even finished it, and then reached into the bottom drawer of the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a dark red polo, a pair of boxers and a white undershirt as well. Bringing them over to him, she placed a pair of black socks on top before kissing his cheek gently. "There's more, too, if you want to bring them back to your house."

"They can stay," he replied, one hand cupping her cheek softly. Her eyes softened, and she smiled, turning her head to kiss his palm lightly.

"It wasn't going anywhere," she responded before slipping back to the bathroom to dry her hair and apply her make-up. Jethro allowed himself a smile before quickly getting dressed, the sound of the blow dryer in the background. He walked back into the bathroom to hang his towel up and take a look at his hair, not really caring what it looked like anymore.

Jenny finished applying the cover-up underneath her eyes and then zipped her make-up bag back up. The keyword today was 'minimal'-all she wanted was to get through the day so she could come home and curl back up in bed. Preferably with Jethro, but she knew that there would always be the possibility that he wouldn't-or couldn't-be there.

"Jen, are you sure you wanna go to work?" Jethro asked hesitantly, and when Jenny's shoulders tensed, he knew he should have just kept his mouth shut. "Why not just take a mental health day?"

"Jethro, I'd need a mental health year, not just a day," Jenny said, turning slightly to look at him, tucking her red hair behind her ear. "My job as Director doesn't just stop because I can't handle my own life."

"Jenny, you're allowed to take one day," Jethro argued, watching as Jenny's eyes flared.

"Jethro, I understand that whatever this is between us has changed some things. But that does not mean that you can rule my life, or make decisions for me. I'm a grown up, and I can make choices without your help," she said, anger flaring briefly. "I understand that you want a say. But don't try to make this about what you want."

"Jen, I'm not trying to make this for you. I'm merely making a suggestion, because you had a bad night. I'm only doin' it because I care about you," he said, and Jenny sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"You know that it's incredibly hard for me to argue with you when you phrase it like that," she said, offering him the tiniest of smiles. He sent her one in return, reaching out one hand towards her. She took it, squeezing his fingers lightly.

And this, to them, was the beginning of compromise.

* * *

A/N: OH. MY. GOD. I hated the NCIS producers before. Now, I completely despise them.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: An idiot set a fire in my school today (but no one was hurt, and school will be back in session tomorrow), so you all get another chapter since I was let out early :) This chapter is short, but I ended it where I did for a reason (try not to hate me-I warned you), which you'll all see soon, I promise!

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_We push and pull, and I fall down sometimes, I'm not letting go, you hold the other line," –'Breathe In, Breathe Out", Mat Kearney_

* * *

The drive to work was silent, but not in an uncomfortable way. Jethro drove, and Jenny gazed out the window, letting her thoughts drift in all different directions.

She felt comfortable with things, for the first time in what felt like forever. It was almost impossible to believe that this was what it had been like before he'd left; before everything had changed.

When they arrived at the building Jenny turned to Jethro before the car was even off, folding her arms over her chest. Jethro turned off the car and pulled out the keys, turning towards her with one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Jenny?" he asked, amusement glittering in his eyes.

"This…thing," she said, gesturing between them, not sure what to call it just yet. "Whatever it is, I think it should stay between just the two of us, at least for a little while. I won't be telling SecNav, and I'd prefer if the team didn't know."

"That's fine," Jethro said, nodding. "Whatever you want Jen, we'll do it. What about Ducky?"

"I don't know how much we'll be able to get past him," Jenny replied, shrugging slightly, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "He knew the first two times, I doubt we'll be able to pull the wool over his eyes now either."

"Whatever happens, happens," Jethro answered, and Jenny let a small smile touch her lips.

"I think I can handle that," she replied softly, reaching over and kissing his cheek gently. Stepping out of the car, she stretched her back and then headed for the elevator, feeling Jethro's presence behind her as she walked. His hand ghosted along her lower back, and she let him get away with it because for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.

* * *

A few hours later, Jenny was in her office reading over files when Cynthia informed her that SecNav was on teleconference in MTAC for her, and it was urgent. Confused as to what the problem could be, she stood in front of her boss moments later, his stern face dominating the screen.

"What can I do for you sir?" she asked, standing with her arms behind her back, her fingers twisting nervously.

"I just got word of the Maddie Tyler case," SecNav said, cutting straight to the point. "Have we lost it?"

"Sir, Maddie Tyler's testimony sealed the case shut," Jenny informed him after swallowing heavily, her fingers clenched together tightly. "Rudi Haas won't be getting out of prison anytime soon thanks to her."

"But the trial won't finish until tomorrow correct?" SecNav asked, his gaze penetrating. "There's still time for them to throw out her testimony because she was hospitalized for mental illness, am I right?"

"You are correct sir," Jenny said through clenched teeth, her hands shaking behind her back. "But I doubt that they'll throw her testimony out, considering that she's hurting herself because of what that man did to her."

"I'm well aware that you know what she's going through, Director," SecNav said, but there was no understanding in his voice, and it only angered Jenny further. "But your job is to this agency, and to insure that there are no bad reflections on the agency."

"Sir, I am aware of what my job is," Jenny said, working very hard to keep her temper. "And I am not letting my past interfere with this case, or my professional duties."

"I should hope not. You're a very capable Director Jenny. I wouldn't want you to mess up one case over your personal feelings involved with this," SecNav said, and Jenny felt her heart stop and her throat close. "I'll leave you to finishing this case. Keep me informed."

With that he signed off, and Jenny stood in the darkness of MTAC, not really believing what had just happened. Had her boss just thrown her past back in her face, and not even thought about what it meant to her?

Who told someone their past didn't matter? Why would he ask her set her personal feelings aside? Did he think she was incapable of being professional?

She walked back to her office silently, trying hard not to let it show how upset she was. She sat behind her desk, her hands folded in her lap as she stared out the window. She tried to keep her mind blank, but found that she failed, as all she could think about was all the times she'd been let down by the men in her life.

Bobby. Her father. Jethro. SecNav.

Was there anyone she could still trust?

Closing her eyes, she drew in a shaking breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She'd just barely regulated in breathing when her door was slammed open, and she turned, swallowing.

"I'm sorry Director, he wouldn't listen," Cynthia apologized, and Jenny shook her head.

"It's fine Cynthia, Agent Gibbs rarely follows the rules," she told her assistant, and Cynthia nodded before closing the door behind her, leaving Jenny and Jethro alone. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yeah, tell me how your meeting with SecNav went," Jethro said, not bothering with any greeting or formality.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Jenny replied, crossing her legs at the ankles as sat forward slightly in her chair, her elbows resting on the table. Jethro frowned, and she couldn't find it within herself to care at the moment.

"Jen, what the hell happened?"

"Why do you feel the need to know?" she cried, pushing herself up so that her palms were flat on the desk. "Why do men always think that they have to know everything?"

Jethro looked at Jenny, confused. What was she talking about?

Her meeting with SecNav must not have gone well, that was the only explanation. She'd been fine when he'd brought her up to her office this morning. Now, she was not fine.

"Jenny, talk to me," he said, and that only set her off.

"Talk to you? Why would I talk to you? No one understands; no one _gets_ it. My life was a living hell when I was in high school! I spent practically every day wishing it was over, and I contemplated ending it. Then I found Lizzie's body. No one knows how that feels! How do you move on from finding your best friend's body in her bedroom? Do you even have the possibility of living the same way you did before? No one gets that!" Jenny cried, throwing her hands up and letting the words rip, not even caring what they did. She was so empty; she was so drained of everything.

She just wanted someone to be as miserable as she was.

"I understand, Jenny," Jethro said, his voice quiet as he kept his gaze trained on the desk. "Because I know what's it like to lose my entire world. I know what it's like to spend the days looking down the barrel of a gun, contemplating pulling the trigger. I know you want to feel isolated Jenny-you want to feel like no one else can ever feel the same pain you are, or that no one will ever know what you're going through. But they do. I do. And if you would just accept that, and want the help, then maybe things would get better. But you can't even look past your own bubble of pain to even attempt it. I want to help. But if you want me gone, say the words, Jenny. Because I'll be gone before you can blink."

With that he left the room, leaving Jenny wide-eyed and speechless. She didn't know what she'd done.

But she couldn't help but think that she'd live to regret it.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: I forgot to say this last chapter- we broke 200 reviews! Thanks so much! :) My muse is kind of being an elusive bitch…it's annoying, seeing as how I actually feel like writing.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_Oh I wanna see you again, but I'm stuck in colder weather, maybe tomorrow will be better,"-'Colder Weather', Zac Brown Band [A repeat song, but I love it, and it fits amazingly well.]_

* * *

Jethro stood in the darkened elevator, one hand clenched in a fist at his side, the other leaning against the cool metal wall, supporting his weight as he sagged slightly.

Jenny was so frustrating, but he shouldn't have thrown what he'd said into her face the way he had. But he'd been hurt, and pissed, and he'd just been sick of how she seemed to think that she was the only one who could ever hurt the way she was.

Because she wasn't.

He knew lost just as well as she did- he'd lost a wife and daughter. Had she forgotten that? His life had been ripped apart just as hers had-he'd been to some pretty dark places.

He'd contemplated ending it all; he sat with a loaded gun in his face, his finger on the trigger. He knew the kind of pain that erased everything but the end from your mind-he had felt that pain cut like a knife at his heart. There were scars there that would never heal; they bled still, and he'd grown to understand that they always would.

But Jenny was much more fragile than he was; she didn't have the calluses or the resistance he'd built up over the years. She'd been ripped open by the memories this case had brought up, and now, he'd thrown the words that she feared the most in her face.

He'd said he was leaving.

And in that moment of fury, he'd meant it. But now, thinking calmer and a little more collected, he realized that Jenny now thought that he meant for good, and he didn't. He wouldn't leave her, not over this.

But she didn't know that, and now, she was probably doubting everything that had happened over the past day. And that meant that her trust in him had probably been shattered.

"Damn it," he muttered, slapping the elevator wall. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

He needed to fix this.

But how?

* * *

Jenny sat in her office silently, seated on her couch. Her knees were tucked up underneath her chin, her feet bare and dangling slightly off the edge of the couch.

She was numb. Completely and totally numb.

She didn't mind this part; the part where she totally and completely shut herself off from pain, and emotion. She liked this feeling of weightlessness she was feeling.

She couldn't find it within herself to care about a thing.

She wasn't getting anymore work done today, she'd decided that from the beginning. And to be honest, she didn't even want to be in the office anymore, because she didn't want to see Jethro. Not today, not tonight, not tomorrow.

It only took her a moment to collect her things, seeing as how she hadn't brought much, and then she was saying goodbye to Cynthia, keeping it short and simple; she had a headache, she didn't feel well, and to call her if anything catastrophic happened. Her assistant assured her everything would be under control, and then Jenny was on her way, standing on the catwalk as she waited for the elevator.

When it opened, her heart stopped, as Jethro was inside, standing passively. He saw her and his eyes widened, his mouth opening to speak.

"Jen…"

"I don't want to hear it," she said softly, shaking her head as she kept her cool, even as the tears welled up behind her eyes. "I'm going home; I'm done. I can't keep doing this, and if you don't want to help, then fine. I'll find someone else who will."

"Jenny, I didn't-"

"Go to hell Jethro, I don't want to talk to you, not right now," Jenny said, shaking her head as the tears started, frustration increasing her emotion, breaking past her barriers. "You want out, then fine, you're out. Just leave me alone, Jethro, because I can't do this with you, not now. I'm done."

With that, she closed the elevator doors on him, shutting out his desperate face and letting the tears fall in the silence of the elevator. When the lift reached the parking lot, she found her detail and slipped into the car, eternally grateful for the discreetness of her security team.

Slipping her phone out of her pocket, she dialed the becoming-familiar number, holding the ringing device up to her ear. When the person on the other end picked up, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Patricia? Do you think you could come over? I need you."

* * *

Half an hour later, Jenny was in comfortable sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, curled up on the couch with Patricia, two mugs of tea on the table and a fire in the hearth.

The older woman had been there when Jenny and her detail had arrived, and Jenny had never felt so grateful to one person in her entire life. Patricia had led her inside and taken her upstairs so that she could change from her work attire into something casual, situating herself between Jenny and the bathroom, discreetly, but Jenny noticed. Most likely because every part of her body wanted to be in that bathroom, digging through the trash bin to find the razors she'd thrown out, but she appreciated the fact that her friend was looking out for her.

Now, with her head on Patricia's lap and the older woman's fingers working out the tangles in her thick crimson curls, Jenny let the tears really fall. She tried not to let Patricia notice, but the attempt was futile.

"Jenny what's wrong?" the older woman asked softly, her voice gentle as she combed her fingers through Jenny's hair. Jenny wiped at her eyes, the salty tears still running in rivers down her cheeks.

"I screwed it up, again," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't keep anything safe anymore."

"What do you mean?" Patricia asked as Jenny sat up, tucking her knees under her chin, her eyes red and puffy from her tears. "Jenny?"

"He came, yesterday, and stopped me from breaking my streak," Jenny answered quietly, her fingers reflexively curling into a fist. "And he stayed the night, and he…he helped forget my nightmare, and he was perfect, if not a tad bit overbearing. And then…I snapped at him, and now he's gone."

"Who, Jenny?" Patricia asked, her storm gray eyes holding a hint of confusion. Jenny sighed, closing her eyes and laying her left cheek down on her knees, her voice muffled slightly by the fabric of her sweats.

"Jethro."

There was silence between the two women as Patricia processed, and Jenny let her think about it. She was tired, she was sad, and she wanted someone to understand her.

It was starting to feel like no one ever would.

"Do you want to get into any details, Jenny?" Patricia asked, her voice neutral. Jenny lifted her head tiredly, blinking the tears out of her eyes.

"Maddie Tyler tried to commit suicide yesterday," Jenny said, watching as Patricia's eyes widened, horror filling the normally-peaceful gray depths. "She failed, I found her unconscious with the pills on the bed, and she was taken to the hospital for treatment."

"Jenny…oh, Jenny," Patricia said, clearly unable to get the words out. But the tears that pooled in the corners of the older woman's eyes were all that Jenny needed, and she nodded, biting her lip against the emotion.

"It was like finding Lizzie all over again," Jenny answered, her voice barely above a whisper. Patricia reached over, squeezing her hand tightly, and Jenny returned the squeeze easily. "I was a wreck, at the hospital. I snapped at Jethro, told him some things I shouldn't have, at least not yet. He followed me back to my house, found me about to cut in the middle of the bedroom. He stopped me."

"He stayed the night because…because I asked him to," Jenny continued after taking a deep breath, her fingers weaving together, picking at her cuticles with her thumbnails. "Woke me up from a nightmare, made me forget because he knew I needed it, and because I made it impossible for him to say no."

"How?" Patricia asked, obviously wanting answers. Jenny flushed pink in embarrassment, and Patricia nodded in understanding, her graying hair flashing in the low lighting of the fire. "Go on."

"Then this morning was alright, after we woke up. And in the car we made the decision that we'd keep quiet about whatever it was we had, because I didn't want people to know, not yet, not when everything was so new and different and breakable. Maybe that was the best decision," Jenny said, breaking off as she got caught up in her thoughts. "Anyway, my boss got me in MTAC and asked if we were screwed on the Tyler case, which I don't believe we are. He…he threw my past in my face, told me I couldn't let my personal feelings get in the way of my job. Like I'm the kind of person that would fuck up a case because I can't be professional. It's like he doesn't even know me!"

"Then that's his loss," Patricia said, running her hand soothingly over Jenny's arm, and Jenny took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"I went back to my office and…had a fight, with Jethro. He…he said things that I know he didn't mean to hurt me with but…he wants out, and I'll give it to him, because I know I don't deserve him, but I wish he wouldn't leave. But he doesn't want this, and so he's gone," Jenny said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she shook her head, tears coming to the surface again.

Patricia pulled her closer as the tears morphed into sobs, Jenny's thin frame shaking as she released her emotion in the safest way possible. Jenny buried herself in the hug, not caring that her tears were staining Patricia's pale blue sweater, or that she looked like a fool. She was hurting, and mourning, and she just wanted, for even that small moment, to feel like even a single person cared.

She just wanted someone to care about her.

* * *

Patricia settled a now sound-asleep Jenny on the couch, throwing a soft, brown-colored afghan over the younger woman's sleeping form. The house was quiet, and the dying fire kept the living room warm. Patricia was more comfortable with Jenny sleeping downstairs, away from the temptation of the bathroom.

While she was thinking of it, she headed upstairs, taking the bag out of the bathroom garbage can and bringing it downstairs, slipping into her shoes and quietly stepping outside, knowing the trash company would come to collect it tomorrow. She had just set the large metal can by the street side when a battered old pick-up truck made its way down the street. It parked itself right in front of Jenny's house, and a man stepped out of it.

He was older and attractive, a fit body and silver hair, his face weathered, but still obviously handsome. Patricia stood and watched with curiosity, and it was only when he raised his gaze to her and she took in the deep, sapphire eyes did she realize who this man was.

It was Jethro.

Her need to protect Jenny kicked in, and she met him when he walked over to the house, clearly intent on going inside.

"Excuse me, but I'd prefer if you didn't go inside," she said, stopping him from getting any closer to the house. He looked at her, obviously wondering who she was and why she was blocking him from Jenny's house.

"And who are you, exactly?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest, the long-sleeved shirt not hiding the muscles in his forearms and biceps. Patricia could see where Jenny was attracted to him, but was also reminded of Bobby; he exuded a definitive masculine vibe, his authority obvious.

"I'm Patricia Evans, a close personal friend of Jenny's," Patricia told him, watching as his eyes flickered slightly, this information clearly new to him. "I'm going to guess that you're Jethro Gibbs?"

"That I am," he answered, his gaze suddenly guarded. "Why can't I see Jen?"

"Because she's fragile, and right now she's really hurting," Patricia said, watching as he flinched slightly, his blue eyes holding traces of pain. "And my job is to keep her safe, and right now, she isn't safe with you."

"I never meant to hurt her," Jethro whispered, his voice hoarse. "I would never intentionally cause her pain."

"And I believe you," Patricia said, her gray eyes studying him in the darkness of the evening. "But I will do whatever I have to to get her back to a place where she's okay, and right now, she's nowhere near it."

"I can't do anything?" Jethro asked, his eyes suddenly desperate. "There isn't some way that I could help?"

"Not tonight," Patricia told him, shaking her head. "Maybe in the morning, after she's slept, and had something to eat, and isn't as raw over all of this."

"Can…can I come then?" he asked, hesitant. Patricia sighed, rubbing tiredly at her eyes.

"No," she answered, holding a hand up when he began to protest. "Not the morning. But I'm having her stay home tomorrow, no arguments. If you'd like to come after work, in the evening, I'm sure you would be better received."

Jethro seemed to contemplate it, and then he nodded.

"I'll be here tomorrow night," he said shortly, heading back towards his car. Just as he reached it he turned, one hand on the door handle. "Thank you. For keeping her safe."

"I've known that girl for over forty years," Patricia said, watching as his eyes widened slightly. "I'd do anything for her. Anything."

Jethro nodded, clearing his throat slightly.

"Jenny needs more people like that in her life," he said simply, and Patricia nodded. She watched him get into his truck and drive away before heading back inside, closing the thick front door quietly.

She checked in on Jenny, who was still sound asleep on the couch. She headed into the kitchen and made herself another cup of tea, bringing the warm ceramic mug into the living room, curling up on the arm chair opposite Jenny and pulling her knitting into her lap.

It was going to be a long night, but Jenny was worth it. More than worth it.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I saw 'Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides' a few days ago, and it was amazing; I totally recommend seeing it.

Now, here's just a few rays of sunshine for AliyahNCIS :)

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_It's not always rainbows and butterflies, it's compromise that moves us along, yeah," –'She Will Be Loved', Maroon 5 [Adam Levine (and his voice), are incredibly sexy, and I love this song; have loved it for a very long time.]_

* * *

When Jenny awoke the next morning, her back was screaming at her. Blinking open her eyes, she found sunlight streaming in through the windows of her living room, and confusion filled her.

She'd spent the night on the couch?

"Good morning Jenny."

The kind voice permeated her still sleep-infused thoughts, and she blinked again, focusing slowly on Patricia. Everything came rushing back and she groaned slightly, rubbing at her throbbing head.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice slightly hoarse as she cleared her throat, wincing slightly.

"Nine," Patricia answered, placing a mug of coffee on the table, which Jenny picked up gratefully, sipping the hot liquid carefully. Her eyes widened at the time, caught off guard.

"Why didn't you wake me? I need to go to work," Jenny said, shoving the blanket off of her legs and swinging her legs off the couch. She was just about to stand to go get ready when Patricia stopped her.

"You're not going into work today Jenny," the older woman said, shaking her head. "I didn't stop you last time, but now I am. Jethro knows you won't be there tomorrow, he'll tell your assistant."

"How does Jethro know I'm not coming in?" Jenny asked, feeling very confused, and like she was missing something. Patricia sighed, and Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Patricia?"

"He came by last night," Patricia told her, and Jenny's eyes widened in shock. "You were asleep, and I met him outside. I can see what attracted you to him."

Jenny blushed, casting her gaze downward as her cheeks flooded with warmth, before his words went through her mind again and she bit her lip, her happiness dissipating.

"He wanted to see you, but I stopped him. He said he'll be coming by tonight, after work," Patricia continued, her gray eyes soft. "Until then, Jenny, you will not be going to work."

"But…"

"No buts about it," Patricia said, and Jenny felt the familiarity of the statement warm her heart a little. She'd heard it since she was young-those four words had been some of Patricia's favorites, using them quite often in the course of Jenny's childhood.

"If you insist," Jenny said, relenting. "What do you intend to do with me if I'm not going to work?"

"You're telling me there's nothing for you to do in your house, at all?" Patricia asked, one hand on her hip. Jenny sighed, shaking her head.

"No, there's a lot I can do around the house," Jenny admitted, standing and stretching, rubbing at the muscles of her back. "Are you sure you want to sta-"

"Jenny, there's no arguing. So stop trying," Patricia said, shaking her head. Jenny looked at her for a minute, one hand on her hip as she thought. "I can hear the wheels in your head turning. Stop thinking, Jenny. Let's just have a day of relaxing for once, alright?"

Jenny sighed, her hand falling off of her hip as she took a deep breath. She knew she needed this; she couldn't fight it anymore.

"Alright. What's first?"

* * *

Jethro did not think the day could go by any slower if it tried.

It was 1600, and he only had two more hours before he could go and see Jenny again-to try to explain to her what he'd meant, and fix everything. Because he hated knowing that he had hurt Jenny; he would never intentionally hurt her, and he can't believe that he had hurt her with his words.

And Patricia. Meeting someone that was so close to Jenny, and had known her for so long, was incredible. He knew nothing of Jenny's past-this experience had taught him that much, and he was determined to learn more about Jenny and her history.

His team could tell he was distracted; Ziva kept shooting Tony glances, and Tim would look up from his computer, worry in his eyes, every once and a while.

The clock was finally nearly 1745 when his phone rang.

Though there was no sound from the team, the collective groan was felt throughout the bullpen. Jethro picked up the phone roughly, anger boiling his blood.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

Ziva watched as Gibbs answered the phone, his blue eyes flashing with anger, and she caught disappointment in the sapphire depths as well. And she frowned, worried. Something to do with Jenny, she wondered?

"Gear up. Body in Rock Creek Park," Jethro said, standing up, strapping his gun to his hip and shoving his badge into his pocket. He was angry, and pissed. Now, he had no idea when he was going to be able to go see Jenny, and explain what had happened.

Damn case.

"Gibbs."

He looked up at Ziva's voice, cutting through his thoughts. She stood at the half-wall near her desk, her backpack on one shoulder as she looked at him.

"Yeah Ziva?" he asked, suddenly exhausted.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, her brown eyes neutral, but apprehension shadowed in her features. "With Jenny?"

"Fine, Ziva," Jethro answered after swallowing hard, controlling himself. He could tell she didn't believe him, but they were interrupted by Tony.

"I'm not holding this elevator door forever!"

Just like DiNozzo to break the tension.

* * *

Jenny kept watching the clock out of the corner of her eye; watching as the hands moved closer and closer to six o'clock. Her heart was in her throat; would he even come?

"Jenny, you've been on the same page for twenty minutes," Patricia remarked, her lips twitching up in amusement. Jenny sighed, rubbing at her eyes.

"I can't believe you honestly think I'm going to be able to concentrate," Jenny replied, shooting her friend an accusatory look. "When did you start playing matchmaker?"

"When you started pushing away the people that care about you," Patricia said seriously, her gray eyes regarding her younger friend. "From what I've heard, your relationship with Jethro has never been easy."

"Easy has never been a word to describe us," Jenny admitted, nodding as she fiddled with her book, running her fingers along the spine of the book.

"And you keep pushing him away," Patricia said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "Have you ever given it any thought?"

"Patricia, I don't tend to dwell on the unpleasant," Jenny replied softly, her gaze on her book.

"Did you ever think that that's why it didn't work?" Patricia prodded, tilting her head slightly as she watched Jenny try to avoid the issue. "Jenny?"

"Every time we talk, you take all of the walls I've surrounded with and you tear them down," Jenny merely replied, shaking her head, a half smile on her face. "I hope you know that."

"That means I'm doing my job," Patricia said in return, a gentle smile invading her weathered face. "Someone has to get through that thick Shepard head of yours."

"Thanks, Patricia," Jenny said, rolling her eyes. Then she was serious, meaning her next words. "I'm really grateful you're here."

"I'd do anything for you Jenny," Patricia replied, her face soft as she regarded her almost-daughter. "I hope you know that."

No more words were needed after that; the silence was comfortable.

Jenny was comfortable.

* * *

Finally the clock struck six.

And then seven.

Eight.

Nine.

And then finally, it was ten, and there was a knock on the door.

Jenny rose slowly, her legs aching from sitting for so long. When she reached the door, she was nervous; would it be him?

She opened the door, and there was Jethro-tired, and cold, and with bits of mud stuck to his jeans. But he was there.

Wordlessly, Jenny extended her hand, letting Jethro wrap his larger fingers around hers, his skin still warm.

She let him step inside, closing the door behind him, shutting out the night.

And out the door went the misunderstandings, for now.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! After this, we are very close to the ending-only two chapters follow this one, then we'll move on to 'Torn', which I am very excited to start! Don't know how many people watch 'House', but this scene (and the end of last chapter), are partially based off of the end of the season 6 finale and season 7 premiere.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_Will we ever say the words we're feeling, reach out underneath and tear down all the walls; will we ever have our happy ending? Or will we forever only be pretending?" –'Pretending', Glee Cast [I am not a big Glee person. But, I like this song.]_

* * *

They stood in silence for a few long moments, their fingers laced together as they stood in Jenny's front hallway. Neither knew what the next step was; they both wanted to be cautious, and so the next steps in this dance were fuzzy and unclear.

"You're bleeding," she eventually said quietly, her fingers going to his neck, where there was a deep cut and seeping blood.

"Crime scene," he replied, wincing slightly as her fingers probed the outside of the wound. "DiNozzo hit me with a tree branch at Rock Creek Park."

"Let me clean it up," Jenny said softly, her green eyes regarding him. "Come upstairs, I have a first aid kit."

She led him up the stairs into the bathroom, seating him on the edge of the tub as she turned the on the faucet, running the water until it was warm. She wet a washcloth and then unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt before gently running the damp cloth over the cut, wiping off the dried blood from his neck.

Her fingers were soft against his skin, washing out the cut with the damp cloth. Jethro held in his winces, pushing the pain down. She was incredibly gentle, and he closed his eyes as her fingers touched the wound on his neck lightly.

Jenny placed the strip of gauze over the now-clean cut, securing it with two pieces of medical tape on each end. Running her fingers over the bandage, she leaned down and kissed it, her lips brushing the material softly.

Jethro's hands found her waist, holding her hips lightly as she leaned towards him, her head on his shoulder. Slowly he stood from where he'd been sitting on the edge of the tub, tugging her lightly against him in a hug. She relaxed against him, her arms winding around his waist on their own accord.

They merely hugged for a few minutes, the small room filled with their breathing as they held each other. Eventually Jenny pulled away, wiping discretely at her eyes as Jethro cleared his throat.

"I'm glad you came," Jenny said softly, her voice not much louder than a whisper. Her eyes were wide and nervous, and Jethro's heart broke.

"I'm glad I came too," he replied hoarsely, clearing his throat again.

"I think we need to talk," Jenny said, her teeth catching her lower lip as she shifted her stance slightly. Jethro nodded, and Jenny led him back downstairs. She entered the living room and found Patricia just starting to stir in the armchair.

"Jenny," Patricia said, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes.

"Patricia, if you'd like to go sleep in a spare room you can," Jenny said softly, feeling Jethro enter the room behind her. Patricia's eyes widened, and she nodded slowly.

"You'll be alright?" Patricia asked, raising one eyebrow somewhat skeptically. Jenny nodded, touching her arm gently.

"We'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning," Jenny said, and Patricia nodded, squeezing her hand gently as she walked by, exchanging a serious look with Jethro before leaving the room.

Sighing, Jenny sank down onto the couch, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on top of them. Jethro sat next to her, close but not touching, his eyes running over her, not saying anything.

"I shouldn't have said what I did," Jethro started, but Jenny shook her head.

"It was how you felt," Jenny said, turning her head to look at him. "Jethro, if this is too much for you, and you don't think you'll be able to handle it, then tell me now. I'm not holding you to this relationship; if you want out, just say the word. But don't drag yourself or me through the mud if you'd rather be gone."

Jethro swallowed hard.

"Jen, I don't want out," Jethro said, slipping a hand over her mouth when she tried to interrupt. "I was frustrated, Jen. I've never done this before; I've never dealt with this. I think I'm allowed a screw-up every once and a while, right?"

Jenny tilted her head slightly, studying him. He seemed sincere, and he was right-he'd never had to deal with this side of her. She sighed softly, her hand grabbing the one he'd slipped over her mouth and weaving her fingers through it.

"Yes, you are allowed to screw up every once and a while," Jenny replied softly, her lips twitching up slightly in a smile. "But…this will most likely not be last time this happens. Will you be able to handle it, if it's an entire week like this? If I have a bad day, and nothing you say can make it better? If all I do is push you away? You can't just yell Jethro, this isn't some unruly suspect."

"I'll be anything you need, Jenny," Jethro said, his eyes serious. "You need a punching bag, a shoulder to cry on, you just need me to be your barrier between you and the bathroom, I can be all those things. I will be here for you Jenny, no matter what."

"Jethro, it's very easy to say all of those things," Jenny said softly, her eyes wide and wet. "Follow through is much more difficult. And please, don't think that I don't trust you, or believe that what you say is true. But it is much more difficult to put those words into action. Others have tried, and they all turned in the other direction and ran."

"I'm not other people Jen," Jethro said, and her face softened, her fingers squeezing his gently.

"I know that," she whispered. "I know you're not. But that doesn't change everything I've known in the past."

"Let me change it," Jethro said, his face merely inches from hers now, his breath washing over, making her shiver as anticipation built up in her stomach, twisting into intricate knots that she knew could only truly be unraveled one way. His next words stole her breath. "Let me show you that I can be different."

Jenny let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by his presence and his words, her heart feeling like it was going to beat right out of her chest. Jethro's blue eyes bored into hers, his blue gaze scorching her face as she struggled with an answer. Taking a chance, she nodded, her crimson curls falling forward to frame her face.

Jethro's hands were gentle as they settled on her cheeks, his thumbs brushing the soft, darkened skin underneath her large green eyes. Jenny sighed, her coffee-tinted breath touching Jethro's face and clouding his senses, and it took all of his strength not to kiss her.

He would do this right. He wouldn't push, or rush, or force this relationship.

He wouldn't hurt her.

Jenny could see the struggle in his eyes; he was doing everything he could not to hurt her. She was touched by the effort, and so she figured she could reward him a little bit.

Leaning forward, she brushed her lips over his, her kiss fleeting. She felt his muscles tense momentarily before he relaxed, his response soft and gentle; sweet, an emotion she didn't always associate with him. But in this setting, she appreciated it, and all of the effort he was putting in to not breaking her-even if she wasn't always the fragile. Jenny smiled against his lips, finding his response entertaining, much to his chagrin.

"Something funny, Jen?" Jethro asked when he pulled away, his voice hoarse. Jenny let out a very uncharacteristic giggle, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Just…encouraged," Jenny said, fishing for the right word. Jethro raised an eyebrow at her in question, but then merely shrugged, leaving it be.

"I should go back to the case," Jethro said after a few moments of comfortable silence. Jenny frowned, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip and twisting it slightly.

"Do you have to?" she asked, even though she knew the answer; she always had. She just desperately wished it wasn't the same every time.

"Part of my job description," he said, regret clear in his tone. Jenny nodded, sighing out a breath. At least he wasn't changing because of this; he was still the Gibbs she'd fallen in love with all those years ago-dedicated to solving the case, putting the perpetrator behind bars. She didn't want their relationship to change that.

"Go put another bad guy away," Jenny said softly, pushing his shoulder with her own. "Try not to get hit with anymore tree branches."

"Do my best," he said, relieved to hear the joke in her tone, and he stood fluidly, his joints creaking. He bent down and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before he locked eyes with her for a moment, conveying things he'd never be able to voice, except in those few, weak moments they rarely had.

Then, he was gone.

Jenny heard her thick front door shut, and she closed her eyes, feeling his lips against her forehead again. She wanted to keep the feeling of security he'd brought to her; a feeling she wanted to grasp with both hands and keep with her.

She hoped that after tonight, she'd be able to.

* * *

Jethro returned to headquarters, wishing he was back with Jenny. He hated leaving her, especially now. At least Patricia was with her; he felt better knowing that someone that loved and cared about Jenny was in the house, there to save her from herself.

A tall cup of Jamaican blend coffee was in his hand, and as the elevator made its way up to the squad room, he took a deep sip, the warm liquid warding off the chill from outside. He scratched his neck, and his fingers came in contact with the bandage Jenny had put there.

Memories of her gentle touch went through him, and he shivered slightly, closing his eyes at the thought of her slender fingers, then her lips touching the bandage…it was almost too much.

He was supposed to be taking care of her, and yet, she was taking care of him. The role reversal was a slight shock; it sent him back to his coma, that hospital room; her face had been the one thing tying him down, the only thing that had had no connection to Shannon and Kelly.

He was still kicking himself for not remembering. Why would he block this out-why would he keep pushing the memories away of a time he'd cherished?

He wanted nothing more than to remember being happy with Jenny. They'd make more memories, that he knew. But still, he wanted to remember the time that she had clearly held onto, even when he'd been away.

When he'd walked away from something that had made someone very important to him very happy.

The elevator reached the bullpen, and he stepped out when the doors opened, cementing the scowl on his face. When he entered the bullpen he played the role the team was expecting-demanding answers, yelling when there were none, escaping to Abby's.

The team wanted things to be kept the same; change was scary, and threatening, and to be honest, not many people enjoyed it. Because change reminded them of Mexico, and his leaving, and he was aware that Jenny wasn't the only one who harbored bad memories of his leaving.

So he would keep his role, chasing change far, far away.

If only for the moment.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I can't believe there's only one more chapter…we're almost there! Sunburn is not fun; words of wisdom-do not read a book in the sun without sunscreen on when you're pale. That, and temporary tattoos are incredibly sexy.

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_So we'll crawl, till we can walk again, then we'll run, until we're strong enough to jump, then we'll fly, until there is no end. So let's crawl, crawl, crawl," –'Crawl', Chris Brown_

* * *

When the next morning dawned, Jenny found it easier to smile than she had for the past few days.

She showered quickly, stepping out and drying off before heading back into her room, selecting her outfit quickly. Throwing on a slim, black pencil skirt and a violet blouse, she selected a pair of black jeweled ballet flats from her closet and slipped into them. She blow-dried her hair as flat as she could, trying to tame the curls that had become unruly as they started to dry.

Then she headed downstairs, looking for Patricia.

She found her friend in the kitchen, the gardening section of the paper in front of her and a mug of tea in her hand. The older woman looked up when she heard footsteps and smiled at Jenny, her gray eyes running her over.

"Good morning Jenny," Patricia said, setting her mug down.

"Good morning Patricia," Jenny replied, filling up a travel mug with coffee.

"Am I to guess that last night went well?" Patricia asked at the half-smile that remained on Jenny's face. Jenny blushed, her cheeks flooding red. "Well?"

"Yes, last night went very well," Jenny replied, biting her lip as she secured the lid on her travel cup. Patricia raised an eyebrow, and Jenny turned with a happier sigh than the older woman had heard since she'd seen Jenny.

"Are you going to elaborate, or am I going to have to continue to pull teeth with you?" Patricia asked, but there was a good-natured teasing accompanying her words. Jenny laughed, and the sound lightened Patricia's heart. "It's good to hear you laugh again, Jenny."

"It feels good to laugh again," Jenny admitted, her sigh softer this time. "He came. That was the most important thing to me."

"I didn't doubt he would," Patricia said, and Jenny shrugged slightly, rolling her shoulders.

"I threw a lot at him yesterday," Jenny said, her voice holding the barest hint of hesitation. "We'll have to see how things go in the future. I'm not making an judgments yet."

"Good decision," Patricia said, nodding. "Are you going to work, I'm assuming?"

"I've been away from my office long enough, I think," Jenny replied, running her finger along the rim of her cup. "But I think I'm going to call Ashley, see if maybe she could get lunch. She wanted to try to get together again soon."

"That sounds like a great idea Jenny," Patricia said, her smile warm. "I think I'm going to head home, take a shower. I think I'll pick Beth up from school, spend some time with her. She is growing up too fast."

"Things at that age truly to fly by," Jenny murmured, nodding. "Well, enjoy your granddaughter. I'll call you later, tell you how today went."

"Please do," Patricia said, before a thoughtful look crossed her face. "Jenny…have you thought about maybe calling Alexis?"

Jenny stiffened slightly, her mouth twitching into a frown. Patricia noticed, and her own mouth dipped into a frown.

"Well that certainly wasn't the reaction I was hoping for."

"What did you expect, Patricia, a beaming smile and me jumping up and down?" Jenny asked, her voice turning hard. "I haven't seen Alexis in over twenty years. She probably doesn't even remember me."

"Jenny, I don't think the woman would forget one of her patients, especially one she saw for almost three years," Patricia said, raising an eyebrow at Jenny. Jenny's frown deepened as memories of those two years hit.

Alexis Adams had been Jenny's therapist after she'd gotten out of the hospital and gotten the restraining order against Bobby. She had gotten things out of Jenny that no one else could, and Jenny had revealed more in that room than she cared to admit. But she'd stopped seeing her during her junior year of college, when she'd finally gotten her life back together-well, kind of.

"I don't know if she's even seeing patients anymore," Jenny said, letting out a sigh. "And, it's been over two decades."

"Time doesn't mean anything Jenny," Patricia said, shaking her head. "That isn't an excuse in the slightest, and you know that just as well as I do."

Jenny had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Yes, she was aware that time didn't change anything. Didn't mean she wanted to have a 'friendly chat' with her former therapist.

"Patricia, I don't think calling Alexis would help all that much," Jenny said, trying to get off of the topic as quickly as she could.

"It wouldn't hurt," Patricia countered, quickly discovering that she'd found an in. "Why are you fighting this so much Jenny?"

"Because I don't want to go down that road again!" Jenny cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "I want that part of my life done with, and calling Alexis will only bring all of that back!"

"But Jenny, clearly that part of your life is coming back into focus," Patricia pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. "Alexis may be able to help, and even if she can't, maybe she can direct you to someone that can."

"Patricia," Jenny said, becoming exasperated. "If it makes you feel better, I'll see if I can find her number and give her a call. Alright?"

"I'm only trying to do what's best for _you_, Jenny," Patricia said, shrugging her shoulders slightly. Jenny sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"I know that," she replied, her emotion deflating. She blew out another breath, shaking her head. "A lot has happened the last couple days. Clearly, my emotional banks have taken a toll."

"You could say that," Patricia said, her face and eyes neutral as she regarded the younger woman. "You should eat something before you leave Jenny."

Jenny nodded vaguely, clearly caught in her own thoughts. Patricia shook her head good-naturedly before going over to the fridge, pulling out a yogurt and then grabbing a spoon before placing them in Jenny's hands.

"Eat, Jenny," she said, wrapping her hands around Jenny's and squeezing gently. "I'm going home. Call me when you get home from work tonight."

"Alright," Jenny said, nodding as she leaned forward to hug Patricia. "Thank you, for everything."

"Just give me a call; if I can help you at all, that means the world to me," Patricia said simply, a smile touching her face. "You know my number."

"Practically memorized," Jenny replied, and Patricia let out a quiet laugh.

"Have a good day Jenny," Patricia said, starting for the door. "Tell Ashley I said hello, and warn her about me picking Beth up today."

"I will. Bye Patricia," Jenny said, watching her friend walk to the door. Jenny sighed, rubbing at her eyes.

Well, the start of the morning had been interesting.

* * *

Jethro wasn't in the building when she arrived, and for the past five hours, she hadn't seen or heard him. The case must be harder than he'd anticipated, she decided, and so she called Ashley, who was more than happy to go to lunch with her.

Twenty minutes later, Jenny's detail pulled into the tiny bistro, and Jenny spotted Ashley car in the lot with relief. Stepping out, she smoothed her skirt and fixed her hair before walking into the restaurant, scanning the tables for Ashley's brunette head.

Finding her friend sitting at a table near the terrace, she headed towards her, slipping into the seat across from her.

"Hey Ash," Jenny said, watching as the other woman's face lit up.

"Jenny! So nice to see you again," Ashley said, grinning. "And, you look great."

"Oh thanks. Work clothes," Jenny said, shrugging modestly. Ashley's eyes widened, the gray in her eyes turning almost silver in the lighting.

"You dress fancy, Miss Director," Ashley teased, taking a sip of her lemon water.

"Comes with the territory," Jenny confessed, shaking her head. "Oh, can you pass a message to Giselle for me?"

Ashley raised an eyebrow, curious. But she nodded, telling Jenny to go on.

"Tell her I finally got that happy ending she asked me about," Jenny said, watching as Ashley's eyes widened. "There's even a prince."

"I think you have some explaining, Miss Shepard," Ashley said when she finally found her voice. Her gray eyes gleamed, her eyebrow shooting up mischievously. "Care to share Jen?"

"Well…do you remember Jethro?" Jenny asked, watching as Ashley racked her memory banks.

"The tall dark handsome agent you told me about?" Ashley asked, and Jenny rolled her eyes at her friend's description. "That one?"

"Yes Ashley, that one," Jenny said, shaking her head slightly.

"What, you don't like my description?" Ashley asked, raising an eyebrow. "He isn't tall, or dark, or handsome? Are you contradicting my depiction of him from what you've told me?"

"Ashley, only you could describe him like it's the summary on some dark, lustful romance novel," Jenny said, watching as Ashley rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, it seems like I read too many of those these days," Ashley said, sighing. Jenny frowned, tilting her head at her friend as their food came.

"Something going on Ash?" Jenny asked, concerned.

"It's just hard, to have a family and carry on a relationship," Ashley said, running a hand through her long brunette locks. For the first time Jenny noticed the gray that streaked the thick hair, the dark circles that were underneath her pretty gray eyes, and the smile lines on her cheeks and jaw. She was still beautiful, anyone could see that, but she was beautiful in the sense that she had experienced a full, happy life, and it showed.

Jenny wanted that.

"How often do you see Steve?" Jenny asked, moving her salad around in its bowl. Ashley pulled the toothpick out of her chicken Caesar salad sandwich and took a bite, chewing and swallowing before answering.

"He's been at a teacher's conference all week, so I haven't seen him," Ashley admitted, letting out a sigh. "But with all of the kids' activities and our jobs, I only see him when we go to bed, to be honest. And even then, we both want to know how the other's day went, what the kids did that day. And, we talk about finances, what needs to be fixed in the house, taxes. When I was younger and dreamed about being a grown-up, it did not include getting into bed and talking about tax refunds. It involved hot sex every night."

Jenny couldn't help it-she let out a laugh at the look of annoyance on her friend's face.

"Oh Ashley, that look is priceless," Jenny said through her giggles, covering her mouth. Ashley frowned, crossing her arms.

"I don't appreciate the laughter," Ashley said, but her face was breaking down, and then she dissolved into giggles as well.

And Jenny knew it would be a good day-because how could it not be a good day when two grown women burst into giggles in public?

* * *

When she got back to the agency, she still had a smile on her face, which grew even more when she saw Jethro and his team in the bullpen. He noticed her, and she saw the corner of his mouth twitch up. She used her eyes to tell him to come up to her office, and he nodded, letting her know he'd be there in a few minutes.

Moments after she'd settled in behind her desk, he opened the door and then let it slammed shut. And she liked that; another thing that wouldn't change.

"Hi," she said softly, waiting for him to respond.

"Hey," he replied, coming over to sit on the edge of her desk.

He leaned forward, kissing her hair softly, running his fingers through the strands. She sighed, turning into him.

They were crawling-and she wouldn't have it any other way.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, and the support that this story has been given. This turned into something huge-and you've all been a part of it. If you haven't dropped your opinion off, feel free to either review or send me a message! I'm sorry this one is so short, but it felt right to end it where I did.

Also, I also posted a one-shot, as per the request of the lovely Jibbsgal1, that details the relationship between Jenny and Gibbs between her kidnapping and his leaving, and then her dealing with his hiatus. It's called 'Falling', and it is rated M. I'd love it if you all checked that one out as well :)

This is my birthday present to myself-so Happy 17th Birthday me! :)

Disclaimer: I own my OCs and the plot.

"_Something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long. No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone," –'Gravity', Sara Bareilles [I am a little bit in love with her. Just a little.]_

* * *

"Jethro."

He looked up at Jenny's voice, raising one eyebrow in question.

"Yeah Jen," he replied, looking up from the case file he was finishing at his desk. The team had left to get something to eat after they'd cracked the case because of Abby. It was only four-still light outside, and the sky looked clear. "What's up?"

"Are you finished?" she asked, and his eyebrows rose at the question. She seemed to notice, and she sighed, relaxing her shoulders slightly. "I have someone I'd like you to meet."

"Oh," Jethro said, and Jenny could hear the question in his voice, but she shook her head.

"C'mon. I'm fairly certain she's been waiting awhile to be introduced," Jenny said, but her smile was a sad one. Jethro frowned, confused, but stood, grabbing his coat and shutting his desk drawer. Rounding his desk, he dropped one hand to Jenny's lower back as they walked out of the bullpen towards the elevators.

"Gonna give me a clue Jen?" he asked when she remained silent in the elevator, her green eyes far away. Slowly she turned, a sad smile still lingering on her lips.

"I'm taking you to meet my best friend," she answered softly, and while Jethro was still confused, he was more than willing to just go with it.

When they reached the parking lot Jenny led him to her car, and he got into the passenger side while she drove. His confusion mounted, however, when twenty minutes later she pulled in the parking lot of the cemetery.

"Jen…"

"Please Jethro, just let me explain once we get there," Jenny pleaded, and he closed his mouth, nodding. She got out of the car and started walking, and he followed her. When he caught up to her, he reached for her hand, linking their fingers. She looked up in surprise at him for a moment, but she didn't remove her fingers from his, and he knew she needed his support.

She led him to a light-colored headstone, but he couldn't distinguish the name until they got closer.

Lizzie Nicole Evans

Taken from us too young.

Forever 17.

1968-1985

"Jethro, I'd like you to meet my best friend, Lizzie," Jenny said, clearing her throat and gesturing to the headstone. "You've already had the pleasure of meeting her mother, Patricia. Some day, I hope that you can meet her sister, Ashley, and her beautiful family. But for now, I think it's time for me to explain a little bit about my past that you don't know."

Jethro watched her, and nodded.

"I met Lizzie when we were four, at preschool. She had the two biggest blonde pigtails I had ever seen, and shiny pink sneakers that I instantly wanted. I sat down next to her on the first day, and from then on we were glues at the hip. We were the best of friends, all the way through high school," Jenny explained, a fond smile touching her face at the memories. "But, in high school, some pretty bad things happened. I met a boy by the name of Bobby Austin. Everyone called him 'BA' Bobby because he had a bit of a tough-guy reputation."

At this Jenny shuddered slightly, and Jethro stepped closer, one hand brushing her arm gently. She looked up at him, offering him a half-smile.

"A few weeks into our relationship, Bobby turned abusive. Lizzie could see it; there were bruises to prove it, and emotional scars that still haven't healed, all these years later. His actions drove me to cut-that's what the scars are from. They're the marks from the pain I suffered through from the time I was fifteen until I was seventeen. The final straw was when Bobby slammed my left hand in his car door, breaking four of my fingers," Jenny said, flexing the fingers reflexively, remembering the damage. "My dad took me to the police station, and we got a restraining order."

Jenny took a deep, shuddering breath, preparing herself for what came next.

"I thought that everything would finally be right, and I would be able to try to pick up the pieces to my life, maybe even stop cutting and hurting myself. Then, only a week after the order was filed, Lizzie came to my house crying. Bobby had raped her," Jenny said, her green eyes glazed with pain. "It went to trial, but before there was a definite verdict, Lizzie committed suicide."

Jethro inhaled sharply, his heart hurting for Jenny. But there was more to the story, he could tell, so he let her continue.

"In her note, she revealed that she'd learned she was pregnant because of Bobby. You have to remember that in the 80s, abortion was a complete taboo. You didn't have an abortion, not back in those days. But Lizzie couldn't have Bobby's baby. Her rape completely destroyed her; she was a shell of her former self, not wanting to live, and that's why she killed herself," Jenny said, swallowing hard. "After that, Bobby was sentenced to 25 to life, and I haven't heard of him since he went in. Personally I hope he rotted, but I'm not crossing my fingers."

Jethro watched as Jenny's green eyes glowed with hatred; he'd never seen her look so disgusted by the thought of a person. But, her past showed why this case had affected her so much, and it fit together pieces of puzzles he hadn't understood until that point.

"Cutting urges are very difficult to make go away," Jenny continued softly, her eyes dropping to her arms, and she pulled up on of her sleeves, revealing the scarred skin. "I finally got them under control during my junior year of college, and then I didn't cut again until 2001."

He did the math. Wait…

"Yes, it was after I left," Jenny replied softly, answering his silent question. "And I left for cowardly reasons that I regret so much. I hate it admit it, but…moments would remind me of Bobby; things you did or said, and…I was so nervous that you'd turn out just like he did. Because in the beginning, Bobby was kind and sweet and gentle, and then he turned into a monster. And…I ran before I could make that the image I had of you. I know you hate apologies, but I'm sorry Jethro. I'm sorry I judged you the way I did."

"Jen, from what you've told me, you survived Hell," Jethro said, his voice slightly hoarse. "I don't blame you, and I forgive you for leaving. We have right now Jenny-let's take it."

Jenny nodded, wiping at the few tears that had fallen. Jethro's hand caught hers, and stilled her motions, taking over to wipe at the tears and brush back her hair. Then, his hand slipped to her cheek, running over the skin.

His next move was to pull her close, and press his lips to hers. And there, in the middle of the cemetery, next to her best friend's grave, she kissed him back.

Finally, she felt safe.

-The End-

* * *

"_Your love is mending my blisters and, my bruising shame. Now I, I'm not ashamed. Here with you, I am safe." –'Safe', Natalie Grant_

And with this, I finish the most intensive story I have ever written. I thank all of you that followed this story through the peaks and valleys (looking back, there's a lot more valleys than peaks…). There will be a sequel, which will be posted in a few weeks (after I pick up the pieces of my life and try to put them back together):

'Torn'- Jenny and Gibbs are struggling with their newfound relationship and dealing with flashbacks and urges when suddenly, Bobby's back. It can only get worse from there. Same warnings as 'Broken'.

I hope you'll read that as well! Thank you! :)


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